Here’s the entirety of Holiday Trade: Thickest Thanksgiving, a new story about rough trade on turkey day when one roughneck in need of money endures his first man-on-man experience! It’s part of the Holiday Trade series, which is, in turn, part of the Str8 Trade series!
Martin was glad to have the house to himself on Thanksgiving. He lived with his sister, her husband and her two daughters, but they were all away at Martin’s brother-in-law’s parents’ house. Martin was invited but begged it off. He rarely got the whole house to himself and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Besides that, he didn’t like his brother-in-law’s family, and he didn’t get the impression they liked him much either. So he was alone for the holiday weekend. He couldn’t really complain though, he had a whole apartment above the garage, so he didn’t have to see his nieces at all if he didn’t want to (and there were times he definitely did not want to see the screaming terrors).
But he did love holidays, so he was a bit disappointed that he didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with. Tomorrow, he and a few friends would be having a Friendsgiving after a day of shopping, but that wasn’t really the same thing.
There was a knock on the garage door. Martin was in the main house right now, since he could have it to himself, but he heard someone banging hesitantly on the garage door.
A deep raspy voice called out, “Hello?!”
Martin peered through the window. There was a man standing there. The first thing Martin noticed was that he was underdressed for the weather, in just a wifebeater and camo pants. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and it was very cold for northern California. He shivered. The second thing Martin noticed was that he was extremely sexy.
He had a shaved head, though a stubble had grown recently, and he had a scruffy beard too. He had a husky build, with muscles bulging out of his wifebeater. He was very tall. He carried himself like a blue-collar worker, Martin thought, maybe a carpenter or plumber.
Martin opened the front door of the house. “Hey,” he said.
“Oh, hi, you must be Martin.” He came to the front door and shivered. He looked like he expected to be let in. “I’m Tommy. I’m Greg Thicke’s grandson.” He gestured to one of the houses across the way. That made Martin giggle — Mr. Thicke was an elderly redneck who was hilarious in his own little way; Martin could only imagine what Mr. Thicke had told him. Tommy smiled nervously. “Can I come in?”
“Uh… Do you… have a reason?” Martin asked. “Sorry, I mean, I don’t know you or anything-“
“No, yeah, I, uh, I guess… I should have expected that. It’s just really cold,” he said. He bit his lip.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Uh… My granddad said you’d be, uh… that you’d get me inside quicker than a… Well, I guess he ain’t mean it literally, I should’ve… I, uh…” He shivered again and laughed. “It’s never this cold at Thanksgiving, man, I ain’t even bring no long-sleeves back with me. Uh…”
“Yeah, weird weather this year.”
“Look… My granddad… You’re gay, right? Course you are. My granddad — I mean, no offense man, you got like, a lisp and a limp wrist and, uh-“
“Yeah, I know what gays look like, man, you got me. It’s okay,” Martin said. He smiled and threw his hands up. He suspected where Tommy was going with this, but he wanted to make him struggle to get there.
“Yeah.” He blushed. “So my granddad said… Look, I’m gonna be honest wit’ you, I got some money problems right now. Okay? It ain’t like… It ain’t, you know, drugs or nothin’ like that. But, uh… my granddad says you… You like, sometimes pay dudes to like… suck their dick, or whatever.” His cheeks turned bright red, and he gestured increasingly wildly. “No offense, man, I love gays. I mean, I don’t love gays like, physically. I mean, I ain’t gay. I ain’t, you know, into dudes. That’s, uh, but I am, like… I am okay, with the whole… thing.”
Martin chuckled. “So your granddad said I’d fall head over heels in love with you and pay you, so you should come over here to make some money? And I’d just open the door for you right away?”
“Well… He ain’t exactly phrase it like a suggestion. He kinda meant it, like… you know, a bad thing, like somethin’… Like he said basically if I was a deadbeat, you know… He ain’t okay with the gay thing. He said he’s not giving me money and if I should just come over here if I’m… Well, he’s old-fashioned.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Martin sighed and opened the door. “Your granddad is totally right, by the way. I’ll give you five hundred dollars to fuck me.”
“Oh hell yeah, okay, finally,” Tommy said. He came in and immediately took his wifebeater off. He tossed it on the couch and begun to unlace his heavy workboots.
“I work at an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, right? And we get leave off in this crapdunk little town called Masquerez, ain’t jack-shit there to do. All the chicks is Mexican and fat. Not a single one is fuckable. I mean, I still fuck ‘em, but I ain’t proud,” he said with a chuckle. His deep voice boomed; he spoke loudly, like he was used to being on an oil rig where engines constantly whirred. “And uh… me and my buddies Leif and Rock and Bolabutunde — he’s from Ghana — and we all heard this rumor ‘bout this gay dude who pay money for it. And we spent all fucking night chasing this dude, never found him, man. We found one gay Mexican who ain’t speak no English and he got even less money than me, so we ain’t fuck him.” He leaned back and wiggled his toes. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. He grabbed the remote control. “You got porn on here. Like straight porn?”
“Prolly not. This is my sister’s place. I doubt her husband dares to keep porn in here,” Martin said. “And I bet he’s into something gross like diapers.”
“Ew, nasty,” Tommy said with a chuckle. He burped. “Sorry if that weren’t romantic.” He flicked through the channels and eventually found some hip hop music video channel that was nearly softcore porn. “So, uh… I dunno how gays do it. I mean, I know… like the gist of it. But I dunno what to do.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out,” Martin said. He sunk between his knees in front of Tommy.
“Oh, I should shower first, man,” Tommy said. He chuckled. He sniffed his armpit and wrinkled his nose. “I smell rank, sorry. I know gays is all about clean, man.“
“What? No. You are way off. You got an F on that gayology quiz. Shoulda studied more,” Martin said. “Gays love dirty guys.”
“Uh… I dunno, I just do,” Martin said. He dove his face into Tommy’s armpit, the same one he had sniffed and found wanting. It was disgusting, he was right about that. It was slick with sweat — Tommy’s grandparents kept their house at a sweltering temperature, which was why he had been wearing just a wifebeater and shorts until he put on pants to come over here. So Tommy had been sweating since he got to the house late last night.
His armpit was so wet it was like he had just taken a shower, though the smell proved he hadn’t. Martin also tasted a bit of snow because a few flakes still came down outside.
Martin kissed up Tommy’s arm from his pit. He had tattoos there, a silhouette of a naked woman, an iron cross, a network of barbed wire, and Martin licked an outline of each one. Tommy watched him with a wry smile like he might watch a child explore something mundane.
Then Martin kissed his shoulder, and the lower side of his neck, where a climbing ivy tattoo extended up to his ear. As soon as Martin’s tongue and lips touched Tommy’s scruffy neck, Tommy’s whole body tensed. Martin knew he had made a mistake.
Martin’s heart skipped a beat. Tommy was huge and bulky and possibly violent. He was a roughneck. Martin wasn’t sure how’d respond. He should not have tried to kiss his neck.
But Tommy just placed one heavy hand on Martin’s head. He gently but firmly pushed him down. He chuckled nervously and pointed to a spot about a third of the way up his neck — he was very muscular, so he didn’t really have much of a neck; he pointed to just above his shoulders. “You can kiss me up to here, man. No higher than that. We ain’t makin’ out. No hickeys neither. I can’t explain that to my mama.”
“Okay,” Martin said. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief like he thought his rule might have ended this.
Martin didn’t mind. He just liked pushing straight men to their limits. He took off his own clothes as he sucked on Tommy’s bare chest and shoulders, below the limit. Tommy was hairy and dusty, and tense wherever he kissed; Tommy’s skin puckered underneath Martin’s lips.
“Ah… Damn,” Tommy said. He blushed a bright red. “Man, this shit is crazy. I ain’t know it was gonna be like this.” He shifted his weight on the couch. “I mean… they said that gay dude in Texas, man, he was… It was like a gloryhole thing. Supposedly. You ain’t gotta look at him or nothing. He ain’t lickin’ ya nipples. Shit’s crazy.”
“You like blowjobs, don’t you?”
“You want me to just go straight to sucking your cock?”
He snorted and chuckled. He whipped his cock out the fly of his tattered brown boxers. He thwacked its limp shaft around, battering Martin’s shoulder with it.
“Hell yeah, man, fuck,” Tommy said. He bit his lip. “You deepthroat? Ain’t no girls deepthroat no more.”
Martin giggled. He stuck his finger down his throat to demonstrate. He got it way down there before gagging. Tommy lowered his eyes and breathed deeply. His cock twitched.
“Ah yeah, man, like that,” Tommy said, his voice rumbling like he had to force himself not to attack Martin’s throat right now.
“I’ll let you facefuck me,” Martin said. “If you let me get you hard with a little jousting.” Martin giggled.
Tommy laughed a deep barrel laugh. He covered his face with his hands. “Okay, but I’m puttin’ a time limit. One minute, man. If I don’t get hard in one minute, you put it in your mouth. Ain’t no way I’m gonna get hard touchin’ a queer’s dick. No offense.”
“None taken.” Martin knew that Tommy was probably right. Martin didn’t care. The point wasn’t to actually get him hard. Martin would just enjoy trying.
Martin thwacked his own hefty cock against Tommy’s, and when he did, Tommy’s whole body jerked. Tommy’s eyes were closed, one hand covering his face. He groaned and giggled like a boy. He covered his eyes with both arms.
“Ah, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he said. His voice was muffled by his arms.
“You ever touch cocks with another man?”
He laughed again, the anxiety evident in the wavery tone. His face was covered by his forearms, but even through the gaps in the flesh, Martin could see his dingy face turning red like a cranberry. He giggled so uncontrollably he squealed like a mouse, a very deep-voiced, raspy-throated mouse.
“You okay, Tommy?”
“Yeah.” Tommy had to take a deep breath to regain control of himself. He peered through his fingers, but when he saw his cock touching Martin’s, he squirmed and re-covered his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “Nah, I never touch no dick.” He paused and bit his lip. “Alright, yeah. One time. Bolabutunde — that’s that African dude — he was… he had this game. He said it was Ghanaian but some other dude googled it and said he saw nothin’ ‘bout it in Ghana or anywhere else.” He paused and laughed. “I only did it one time. But, uh… He like come up at ya wit’ his big floppy dick, and you… you know, you hit each other’s dicks and shit. Like joustin’ for real, you know? And uh… if you back out cuz his dick hurt ya — and Bolabutunde knows how to do that too, he got a massive rod and he uses it like a fucking club, man, he really gets ya with it. He hits ya in the balls with it. Anyway if it hurts and ya gotta back out, you lose, and if you get hard, you gotta suck his dick.” Martin chuckled. “It’s how Bolabutunde always wanna settle things.”
“You did that?”
“Just one time. That motherfucker was trying to take my towel, man. He said he just forgot his, he wanna share. I was like, I do a lot of things for my friends, but I ain’t gonna let you wipe ya ass off with my towel and then I’m gonna use it. I’m gonna wipe my face off wit’ ya ass all over my towel? No way, no I ain’t.”
He shrugged. “Kinda. We was still goin’ when my boss came in the shower. He ain’t tolerate faggotry, so he made us stop.” He paused. “Okay, man, start suckin’.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Martin pulled away from his cock. Then Tommy gasped. “Oh, sorry, man! I ain’t anti-fag. I mean, anti-gay. I ain’t anti-gay. I know faggot is a bad word-“
“It’s okay, Tommy, relax.”
“Okay. I don’t use it, you know. On the rig, we got a lotta Africans and shit, Arabs, that kind of thing. They ain’t nice about gays. I’m the tolerant one there,” he said like he expected a medal. “I tell ‘em not to talk shit about faggots. Ain’t right.”
“Well, thanks for… standing up for us, or whatever.” Martin swallowed Tommy’s cock, which was still limp and ropy. Tommy’s proud smile disappeared.
His cock remained limp at first, as an awkward silence filled the room. Martin wondered if Tommy would even be able to get hard — not all straight guys could do it, no matter how much money they were offered.
But then finally, Tommy’s dick perked up. It twitched in Martin’s mouth, then got firmer and firmer. Tommy watched like he had never seen this happen before. His eyes were open wide.
“Ah, yeah, yeah, like that,” Tommy said. He moaned like Martin was scratching an itch he hadn’t been able to reach for a long time. He leaned back on the couch. He grabbed his pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Can I smoke in here?”
“No, sorry. It’s my sister’s house. She would literally shit a brick,” Martin said.
He smiled. “I’d like to see that.” But he did put the cigarettes away. He shrugged. “I’m trying to quit anyway.”
Martin rammed his head all the way down on Tommy’s cock. He gagged but he kept his mouth in position. He choked up spit, while Tommy groaned and grunted.
He was a very loud lover. Tommy kept on making sounds, whirring and hooting at himself, chuckling at jokes only he heard, shifting his weight on the couch. Martin couldn’t tell if he always fucked like this or if he just did it because he was nervous.
“You ready to fuck me?”
Tommy blushed again. “Yeah, course,” he said. He said it like a macho man, but it was obvious that he was nervous. When Martin bent over his lap with his ass in the air, Tommy sighed with relief. “Damn, thank god, I was worried you’d be hairy. You shave your ass, right? I’m glad girls don’t get hair in their asses.”
“Girls absolutely get hairy asses,” Martin said as he backed his ass towards Tommy’s lap. “They shave.”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way, I swear. Or a lot of them do, anyway. Not all. Not the Asians.”
Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Well… I don’t much like that, they shouldn’t get hair in their asses, man, that’s gross.”
Martin giggled. “I will be sure to inform the Committee to Regulate Female Asses,” he said. Then he shuddered in both pain and pleasure when Tommy’s dick pushed into his asshole.
Tommy gasped. “Aw, fuck, aw, fuck, man, aw, fuck, I don’t even… Aw, fuck…”
“You like that?” Martin asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Tommy groaned and his whole body rattled. He held his breath, watching Martin squirm backwards deeper and deeper onto his cock. “Yo, man, yo… I gotta… Yo, man, you, uh… what kinda positions you like?”
Martin found it difficult to concentrate while his ass loosened and adjusted to Tommy’s cock. So he just said, “Any, really. What do you want to try?”
“No big deal, just… no girls ever wanna do this,” he said. “They say it hurts too bad. Man, girls complain a lot. Why don’t you complain?”
“Cuz I like getting fucked by dirty guys with big monster dicks,” Martin snapped. “Girls don’t.”
He sniffled. “Fuckin’ bitches…” he said. There was a faint note of pride there, like he enjoyed hearing talk about his “monster dick”. He wrapped his arms around Martin’s chest. He rotated so that he laid out on the couch — he was a little too tall, so his feet had to be angled off the edge. Martin struggled to remain atop his cock, but all the extra motion made him horny enough to burst.
Tommy hugged Martin to keep him close. Martin held his breath, trying to endure the awe-striking pressure in his ass. Tommy’s entire cock was in him, throbbing, and since he was mounted on Tommy’s sweat-slippened body, Martin could do little more than slide around on his muscles.
But Tommy wrapped his arms over Martin’s chest, and even hooked his legs around Martin’s ankles. That pinned Martin on his back on Tommy’s chest and cock. The smell of his unwashed roughneck body was overpowering, like Martin was bathing in his funk.
“This alright, man?” Tommy asked.
“Hell yeah.” Martin’s voice was weak and thready. “Girls are never going to like this position, Tommy. It hurts. I like it because… well, for my own reasons. Don’t bother asking girls to do this.”
He sighed. “I know.” He took a deep breath and started fucking, ramming his dick upwards into Martin’s ass. He was quick like it was a race, like he was trying to shatter Martin’s insides. Martin yelped and screamed, in pain at first but then with pleasure flowing through his veins.
Tommy’s cell phone rang. He cursed and answered it, only slowing down a little bit. “It’s my sister,” he said like he didn’t want to talk to her. He answered it anyway though. “Hey. I’m around. None of your business. No. No. No! No! No! You better not!” His cock trembled in Martin’s ass. “I am not! I don’t even know the neighbors here. Grandpa is a fuckin’ homophobe, I don’t think he was right about that. I’m… at the store! I wanted to pick up…”
“Bottle of wine.”
“A bottle of wine, Shelly! I wanted to get some wine for the dinner tonight! Yes, I know what wine is! We’re not that barbaric on the oil rig, you know! Oh, you think you know everything? I ain’t a rentboy, shut up!” He hung up the phone. His cock twitched angrily in Martin’s ass. “Fucking bitch. She knows where I am, by the way. If she ever asks, I didn’t come over here. I’ll tell her I dropped the wine and broke it on the way back.”
“I have wine,” Martin said. “You can take a bottle.” His voice was tense, breathless, clipped. He sounded like he was near tears, though he was merely near orgasm instead. “You can leave out the back. You can come out down the street, it’ll look like you’re coming back from the store.”
“Shit, alright, thanks,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I wanna do somethin’ nice for you, but I can’t think of nothin’. Don’t ask for a reacharound, I don’t do that.”
“Take a video of that African guy. Record yourself thwacking dicks with him. I wanna watch,” he said.
Tommy gagged and winced. “Ah…” He smiled. “Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll just tell him it’s for a girl, alright? I’ll say I know a girl who wanna see it.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Martin yelped like a puppy. He at last reached orgasm as Tommy finally began fucking again, triggering Martin’s whole body to tense and send pleasure pounding up his spine. Tommy didn’t notice right away because he was focused on his own cock, which spasmed as his balls drew up in his sac.
Then Tommy moaned in disgust when he saw Martin spray cum over his belly and chest. Tommy closed his eyes and muttered a complaint about the cummy smell. “Nasty…”
But it didn’t slow him down any. He groaned right into Martin’s ear. He jackrabbited his cock into Martin’s ass again, so hard and so violently that Martin screamed in both pain and pleasure. His fucking accentuated the orgasmic aftershocks that wracked Martin’s body.
“I’m gonna nut, man, gonna nut, gonna fill you up, aw shit, man aw shit, aw shit!” His voice gradually rose to a plaintive yell.
Hot cum spurted into Martin’s ass. It was a thick, creamy load, even denser and stickier than most. It coated Martin’s ass in warmth, and it kept on going. Martin took a deep breath and savored the feel of looping jets of cum covering his prostate and dripping throughout his body.
Tommy sighed grandly. When Martin moved, Tommy gasped and held Martin’s hips in place. His cock twitched, which made Martin hold back a howl of pain. The movement kept his post-orgasm going, however, and Martin shuddered uncontrollably.
At last Tommy was done. Thick gobs of cum dripped down his shaft and into his pubic hair. He shuddered too, and then he fell limp.
Even when Martin lifted off him, Tommy just sprawled out on the couch. He groaned. He burped again. Martin stretched his legs and grabbed some napkins. He cleaned off Tommy’s cock, which rapidly limpened in Martin’s fingers.
“Damn,” Tommy said. He sighed. “Do I gotta go back to my family? Can I stay here all day?”
“Fine with me.”
He frowned. “I know. But I can’t. My mama would kill me,” he said. “You’ll still be here tonight?”
“Yes,” Martin said. He went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. He handed it to Tommy.
“Good. I gotta wait till my sister goes to sleep, or she’ll be a total bitch,” he said. He smiled. “Will you pay me again tonight?”
Martin giggled. “Not five hundred dollars.” He wrote out the check to Thomas Thicke and handed it over. In the memo field, he had written meat, but Tommy didn’t even look at it yet.
“Don’t worry though. We can have fun, and I bet you can make some money one way or another. Maybe not five hundred bucks…” Martin said. Tommy nodded and agreed. He put his clothes back on, then left through the back door. Martin watched him sneak down the street, then shiveringly walk in his wifebeater back to his grandfather’s house, carrying the bottle of wine.
Martin couldn’t wait for him to be back. He loved servicing straight studs, and they always seemed to come out around the holidays.
Thanksgiving, he thought, was the best. That’s when all the hottest str8s came out to play. Martin wondered how many other straight studs were visiting family on this street right now. He couldn’t wait to taste them all.