Tag Archives: muscle

Masseurs Gone Wild: The Wrestling Champions

Here’s the beginning of Masseurs Gone Wild: The Wrestling Champions, a brand-new tale by Happiest Ending and the conclusion to the Masseurs Gone Wild series!


When Mansur dragged Ethan’s hand to his cock, he growled and snorted like he didn’t like it, even though he was the one who did it. He closed his eyes. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure he was supposed to jack Mansur off. That seemed right, except that Mansur had a face like he didn’t want it.
He had also implied he wouldn’t allow that, back when he first showed up for his massage. Ethan was the only male masseur at the Tophaul Massage Parlor, so he sometimes got clients who were annoyed they didn’t have a woman. Mansur was such a client.
He scowled when he came in, and looked back out in the hall.

“Where is the Chinese woman?” he asked with a crude, British-inflected voice.
“She’s with another client,” Ethan said. He motioned for him to get up on the table.
Mansur was a thick-bodied, barrel-chested Turkish man. He had a hairy torso and a dense beard, and he wore a fez above a Turkish men’s suit. He didn’t look like he was used to dressing in nice clothes. He shifted his weight uncomfortably in them as he came into the room. People didn’t usually dress so formally at a massage parlor.
“I do not want to do anything gay,” Mansur said with a sneer.
“Oh. Okay.”
“I am here for the tournament,” he said. “My coach has warned me of America. There is too much gay here.”
“I see,” Ethan said. He had already guessed that Mansur was here for the tournament. This city was home to the International Wrestling Tournament right now, so the streets were crawling with hot muscle-bound foreigners. Ethan was excited to think he was starting to get them in his massage parlor.
He was disappointed, however, that Mansur did not want a happy ending. He awkwardly stood there and waited while Mansur took off his clothes. He quietly removed everything — most men needed encouragement to take off their clothes in front of Ethan, but Mansur didn’t seem to care. He folded his jacket, shirt, pants, and even his tie and socks. His folding was awkward though, like he had little experience with it but knew he was supposed to do it.
When he dropped his briefs (hairy men in tight briefs were so sexy Ethan thought, trying not to be obvious as he checked out Mansur’s package), Mansur hopped up onto the massage table. He had a massive, uncut cock that flopped against his thigh.
Again, that was unusual. The vast majority of American men were reluctant to get naked and then when they did, covered their crotches. When they got up on the table, they laid on their belly to cover up their cock and balls, and because it was generally assumed that massages would be focused on the back and shoulders.
But Mansur apparently expected Ethan to work on his chest. Ethan used warming, scented oil, and Mansur groaned as Ethan began to knead his flesh.

First-Time Jocks in the Barracks

Here’s a sample from the beginning of First-Time Jocks in the Barracks, a new story by Happiest Ending!

Drill Sergeant Mitchell Armstrong stood behind the barracks, peering into the window. He stood on the air conditioner so he could see in the high window to the showering area in the back of the barracks. He smiled as he watched Cadet Brandon Scaramuzza sit on Danny Lafleur’s face.

Two dozen of the heftiest, most athletic cadets in the Army were in those barracks, and Armstrong watched them shower. He could have gone in there, but then they would have stopped and he couldn’t watch any more.

It wasn’t a rimjob, of course. Presumably Lafleur had lost some sort of bet, so he allowed Scaramuzza to sit on his face. It was only for a moment. Had he farted on his face? Maybe, but Armstrong didn’t think so. He could hear them laughing as LaFleur blushed and clawed at his own cheeks.

Then they all started dancing and Armstrong was confused — a sudden dance party? Was this a Japanese game show?

But then he heard a pounding techno beat. That seemed to be A Thing, which he didn’t understand because he was too old — every once in a while, this generation of cadets put on electronic music and apparently they were all required to dance like club kids. It wouldn’t have been strange if they actually enjoyed that kind of music, but not a single one of them actually chose to listen to it in any other context.

Armstrong didn’t understand the younger generations.

They danced together for about a minute, stopping only when someone started slapping Cadet Lee Amasuzi’s ass. It soon degenerated into a torrent of laughter and horseplay — they treated each other like strippers, slapping each other’s ass and jiggling their buttcheeks in front of each other’s faces.

Drill Sergeant Armstrong began masturbating. He was just inches from those plump asses, and he could even taste the soapy shower water as it covered their taut skin.

These were not any random collection of Army recruits. They had been chosen to be on the US Army wrestling team. They were given a shared barrack and Armstrong was put in charge of their training, all because the Army was tired of losing to the Navy in wrestling.

It was Armstrong’s job to turn them into champion wrestlers, and hopefully soldiers as well.

Inside the barracks, the horseplay had turned into a game called Boner Loses. They didn’t invent it, it had been passed down from an earlier group of cadets. Drill Sergeant Armstrong had even played a very similar game back when he was a new recruit, which felt like it was eons ago. Armstrong was glad that Cadet Scaramuzza was going to play this game now, because he really hoped to watch Scaramuzza lose.

Brandon Scaramuzza was “forced” to play — he wasn’t exactly forced, per se, but he had implied he would win if he did play, and he was urged to back that up. He frantically tried to come up with way to get out of it, but he came up with nothing. Everyone expected him to do it, and Brandon wasn’t willing to violate their expectations like that — they were his expectations too. That’s because Brandon saw himself as more sexually experienced than anyone else here. He had had sex with nine girls, more than anyone else in his barracks. He had had sex with two women at once. He had had sex with an older woman.

So he thought he was well-suited to win Boner Loses. That was a game wherein the player (Brandon) had to stand there while another player (usually someone who had lost a bet, in this case Lee Amasuzi) had to put his dick in his mouth.

Too Thick for Girls: The Linebacker Lean

Here’s the beginning of Too Thick for Girls: The Linebacker Lean, the debut story by Trent Chaplain!

Gravy Mitchell tried not to feel self-conscious. He hung around on the bus. No one seemed to notice that he was alone. His teammates filed off, meeting up with the girls out in the parking lot. Even the bus driver had disappeared somewhere.

The GHU Wildcats were on their way to Jacksonville for a big game. The cheerleading squad was on their way too, and their van had stopped in the same motel parking lot where Gravy and his fellow Wildcats were staying.

And then they paired up. That happened sometimes. The cheerleaders brought their female friends, and they all picked a football player as they got off the bus. The cheerleaders giggled and laughed as they found a man, and they went into the rooms the school had rented for the players.

Gravy sat there on the bus alone. He didn’t bother to go out there. He couldn’t be humiliated like that again.

At one point, he had gotten big deliberately. Girls liked muscles, right? They liked athletes. They were into that, he was sure that had been true at one point. But it seemed there was a point of no return, and that point was either six and a half feet tall or three hundred pounds, give or take a bit.

Gravy wasn’t fat by any means. He was in good shape. He didn’t have a six-pack, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get those kind of perfectly etched curves like the quarterback Sammy. He had a big barrel shaped chest, and he was approaching seven feet tall and four hundred and fifty pounds. At least he was pretty sure he had stopped growing. He hoped so.

He was already too big for girls.

As the parking lot emptied and Gravy could go to his room without being seen, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror at the front of the bus and he blanched. He really did look like an ogre, he thought.

He worked out constantly. That was his plan, while his teammates were fucking beautiful cheerleaders, probably double-teaming them, filling their tight holes with creamy seed, Gravy would just go work out. He was hungry — he was always hungry, eating more than eight thousand calories a day, and burning them all off — and he needed to work out or he would get antsy.

Last month, the cheerleaders had come into the locker room for a “blowjob-party”, which they said was a tradition. They each picked a guy, or sometimes more than one, and sucked him off.

Ew, not Gravy! Sorry! I can’t even reach his dick on my knees!

He’s too hairy! He’s got backhair… Gross…

He smells like my dad’s armpits, ohmygod…

They had giggled and whispered to each other. No one actually told Gravy that he had been rejected, he had to overhear and surmise it from the fact that no one started sucking him off. He was the only one who didn’t get a blowjob, even the weirdo German-Turkish kicker Abu landed the tubby cheerleader.

The last time Gravy did get laid, it was some fat chick who had made him stop partway through. His dick was too big and he “ain’t usin’ it right”. She said she’d give him a handjob, but then she just mashed it for a bit and passed out.

That was it.

Everyone assumed football players got laid a lot. The nerd who tutored Gravy in math made comments suggesting it, and Gravy was too embarrassed to correct him. Gravy might have considered lying, pretending he had a girl when he didn’t; he could have tried to save face that way. But in the most humiliating aspect of this whole problem, he didn’t need to lie. His teammates were so used to being golden gods who got girls every night that they never even really asked. They occasionally noticed that he had no girl hanging off him, but they always assumed there were girls right around the corner. It never occurred to them that Gravy didn’t get laid. The one time they heard about a girl turning him down for being too massive and having a painfully huge cock, they thought it was awesome; they assumed Gravy got other girls on other occasions; they congratulated him as though being turned down for sex was a sign of getting a lot of sex.

He walked along the side of the building. He could see one of his teammates through a window, taking off his clothes before pouncing on the beautiful cheerleader sprawled naked over the bed. All of them kept their windows at least partially open, seemingly an accident though Gravy suspected they wanted to make the hotel staff knock on the door. They wanted to brag that they fucked so good the hotel made them take a break. They’d never stop bragging if Coach Bagworth had to come tell them to keep it down.

Lowering his head to make it in the doorway, Gravy walked into his own room. It was plain, but fine. He dropped his duffel bag and scarfed down the chocolate on the pillow.

He didn’t want to go eat, then workout, because that was what he always did. The hotel staff would know that he was the only one not getting laid. His dick stirred because he had been thinking about sex, and his jockstrap was uncomfortably tight.

But that is what he did. He didn’t have anything else to do, so he went to the breakfast buffet (which was open until noon). He piled his plate high with pancakes and bacon. Then he sat down. He tried to make a face like a man who had just gotten laid, hoping maybe folks would think he was just powering up for the next phase.

Crumbs and pancake syrup dripped into his lap. He didn’t really fit in the narrow chair, his plump asscheeks spilling over the side. This wasn’t even a nice hotel and Gravy still felt out of place, like a hobo who had stumbled into a mansion. His hand was sticky, and when he ran his fingers through his tangled black hair, his hair got even greasier and nastier. He didn’t mean to do that. He sighed. He didn’t understand how his teammates managed to look more or less respectable. Jack Miller (a tight end) didn’t style his hair at all and somehow he always looked like Prince Charming. Deondre Wilson had a shaved head and a squat face like a pig that ran into a wall, Gravy never understood why girls thought he was handsome; he spent no time on his appearance either. It was different, he thought, for black guys. And Deondre had a six-pack.

Gravy belched, then blanched. That sounded louder than he thought. He hadn’t intended to be some gross ogreish jock belching like a monster, scaring away the civilians who vacationed here like the villain’s lackey in a college comedy movie. But every sound that came out of his giant throat was loud and attention-grabbing. Gravy couldn’t whisper; his voice was bone-rattlingly deep.

“Hi, sweetheart,” came a feminine voice from behind him.

Gravy turned around. For a moment, he thought it was a cheerleader willing to give him sloppy seconds. He could have tolerated that.

But it was a man. He worked here at the hotel, and his nametag said Trent. He sounded feminine because he was flamboyantly gay. He was tiny, at barely more than five feet tall, though he looked athletic and sinuous. He giggled as he looked up at Gravy’s face — even though Gravy sat and Trent stood, Trent had to look upwards to see his face.

“Hi.” Gravy grunted.

“You look like you need something. Would you like some more bacon, sir?”

Gravy nodded. Trent went and got him a big plate full of bacon. Gravy stuffed it in his mouth, eyeing Trent suspiciously. This, he thought, was not the kind of hotel where staff would bring him food from a buffet. Avoiding that staff expense was rather the whole point of a buffet.

“You’re here with that football team, right?”

Gravy nodded.

He smiled. “Normally, when a team bus pulls up, they all come running to the buffet right away. Where’s the rest of your team?”

Gravy shrugged.

“Not a big talker, huh?”

“Not really,” Gravy said, keeping his voice as low as possible. Of course he wasn’t able to avoid attracting attention. Folks at other tables glanced up, as though Gravy’s baritone made their glasses vibrate. Gravy blanched. In addition to having a freakishly, painfully deep voice, Gravy thought he simply sounded stupid — he sounded like a dumbie; people always assumed he was stupid because of his size anyway, and the dull chasm of his voice seemed to confirm it. Even when he said true things in class, people laughed as though he had embarrassed himself.

“That’s okay, you don’t need to talk. A big sexy guy like you…”

Gravy grunted.

Trent smiled. “What?”

Gravy just shook his head. “I’m too big to be sexy. I’m too thick for girls.”

Trent sighed dramatically. “Girls are such idiots. There’s no such thing as too thick.” He threw his hands in the air. “C’mon, let me show you.”

Downlow Thugs on City Streets

Here’s a sample from the beginning of Downlow Thugs on City Streets, a new story by Calvin Freeman, about the sexy man-on-man shenanigans that go on in urban Baltimore!


Chad didn’t try to act tough, and he made it very clear he was gay. He had been living in rough urban ghettos for most of his life, so he knew that was the best way to go — if he tried to be tough, people would challenge him. If he acted like a sexy flamboyant gay man, the thugs, addicts and drug dealers who lived around here would treat him more or less like a woman they weren’t attracted to: they’d ignore him.

That was what Chad wanted. So he didn’t worry about the eyes following him whenever he came into the courtyard of the Baltimore housing projects he lived in. He knew he looked good — slim, pale skin, blond hair, lithe and leanly muscled body visible beneath the bare midriff t-shirt and short shorts he wore. He heard snickering from the black men and women who filled the courtyard, but Chad didn’t care.

“Crack! Crack!”

“Want some rock, Pinkberry?”

There were two young black men sitting on a couch in the middle of the courtyard. They were there all the time. They offered Chad crack every time he walked past. It seemed they didn’t know of any other reason a gay white man might be here in the projects. They had to have figured out that Chad lived here by now, he thought, but they still acted like he was just hanging around looking for drugs.

“I can sell you whatchoo want, boy,” said the younger one, Brodie.

“You want tina? I can get you tina too,” said the older one, Marcus.

That impressed Chad enough to make him giggle as he passed them by. “Tina? Somebody’s been doing research.”

“You smoke meth?”

“No,” Chad said. “But I appreciate you looking up gay lingo online.”

“We aim to please, whiteboy.” Brodie said. He was younger, with a harsh, arrogant face — he looked like he was supposed to be a jock and bully, but had gotten sucked into a life of crime instead, so his jutting face was lined with premature wrinkles even though he wasn’t even old enough to drink. He had deep dimples and dark, flashing eyes. Chad had thought he was sexy since the moment he first saw him (Marcus was sort of hot too, in his way, but he was portly and scruffy; Brodie could have been a model, Chad thought). Brodie tried his best at a charming smile. “Cuz you look like you need a pipe in ya mouth, boy. Yo’ mouth is needin’ something to fill it, that’s for sure.”

They both guffawed and slapped hands with each other. Chad stood there and smiled, jutting his ass out so they could see how plump and round it was. They both glanced at it, then fell quiet and avoided looking at each other.

Finally Brodie added, “So wuzzup, you want that rock or not? Or meth?”

“I said no.”

“You ain’t actually say no about crack. You said no about meth.”

Chad made a big dramatic show of pondering the issue. He tapped on his forehead with one finger. “Well, Brodie, I’ll give you a simple yes or no answer, if you pull your cock out and let me take a look.”

Brodie sniffled and his eyes bugged out, but he affected a look of a nigga who ain’t care. He shrugged, flashing an annoyed look at Marcus — who seemed to think that was hilarious. Marcus screamed laughter, clapped his hands and ran in a little circle around the couch they were both sitting on.

“So…” Brodie winced and looked at Marcus. Brodie rolled his eyes. “Uh…” It was hard to say anything over the sound of Marcus screaming peals of laughter.

“Do it, nigga, c’mon. Don’t Stringer say do what you gotta do to make the sale?”

“He ain’t say he gonna buy somethin’, he just gonna tell me whether he into it,” Brodie said. “And we already know he ain’t cuz we asked him before.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Chad smiled and crossed his arms over his much more delicate chest. His skin rippled, visible because of that bare midriff his t-shirt exposed. “So you asked me before and you remember my answer? You already know whether or not I smoke crack?”

Brodie nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I know you don’t.”

“So why did you ask me again?”

“Cuz you might’ve started, man!” Brodie threw his hands in the air. “I don’t gotta do it.” He looked at Marcus, who was quieting down. “I ain’t gonna do it, nigga. It ain’t about a sale. He just wanna look at my dick.”

Chad nodded. “Sure, that makes sense. It’s kind of chilly today anyway, your dick is probably small right now. Don’t embarrass yourself.”


“I’m sure no one will ever find out I was considering buying some crack and only didn’t cuz you were too scared to show my your dick.”

“You ain’t considerin’!”

“You don’t know that. Every crackhead has a first time, Brodie,” Chad said.

“I ain’t scared. My dick ain’t small,” Brodie said.

“Well, then, ugly or whatever, I don’t know. Obviously there’s a reason you don’t feel safe whipping it out. That’s understandable. Gay men are catty bitches. If your dick doesn’t pass muster, I will critique it thoroughly,” Chad said, making Marcus erupt in laughter again.

“Man, fuck you, whiteboy,” Brodie said. He sucked on his teeth and glared at Marcus. He did that several times, like he kept deciding to do it, then changing his mind before talking himself into it again. “Man! Fine! Whatever, nigga! Marcus, shut ya face! Man, Marcus! Marcus!” He shook his head because Marcus ignored him. “Marcus, don’t act like a fuckin’ fool! Hey!”

“I’m waiting,” Chad said with an exaggerated yawn.

Brodie snarled. He unzipped his fly and reached in. He let a suitably massive cock flop out, making Chad blush a little and gasp. Brodie looked around, but no one was looking in his direction — Marcus danced around the courtyard laughing and attracting attention — so he swung his hips, making his cock bounce around.

Chad reached for it, wrapped one hand around it and squeezed. Brodie gasped. For just a moment, it felt like Brodie was going to allow this, and Chad would be able to give him a handjob. But then Brodie tucked his dick away and pushed Chad.

“Alright, you got ya peek, whiteboy,” Brodie said. “So go ahead and say yes or no.”

“He did it! He did it!” Marcus screamed, his face exuberant as though he had been waiting for this. “He whipped it out, nigga!”

“Marcus, shut up!”

Chad smiled. “Are you the kind of dealer who makes his customers suck him off sometimes?”

“No. I got females, nigga. Can’t use a crackhead’s blowjob to buy food for my mama, can I?”

Marcus scoffed. “You don’t buy food for ya mama-“

“It’s just an example, Marcus.”

Chad shrugged. “A pity. Well, my answer, Brodie, is no. I do not want to buy crack, but thanks for giving me a peek at your cock. It’s very nice. A little smooth for my taste, but I bet it gets veinier when it’s hard.”


Chad turned around. “I’m not going to give you permission to watch me walk away.” He shook his ass. “But I know you will.”

Downlow Thugs at the Basketball Court

Here’s the first chapter of Downlow Thugs at the Basketball Court, a new story by Calvin Freeman! It’s an incredible tale of rough trade, urban lust and mandingo meat!

“Blowjob.” Jake spoke quietly, hanging out near the basketball hoop. He didn’t want to attract a lot of attention, not from the crowd — he did want to attract attention from the two guys playing.

Jake was gay, and he was hanging out at the Wilson Street basketball court, like he used to do when he had just come out of the closet. Since then he had gone to college, started a career, had a long-term relationship with a jerk named Adam, dumped Adam, got really into homemade sushi, nearly made the disastrous decision to open his own sushi house, briefly hooked back up with Adam before dumping him again, and now he was back here at the Wilson Street basketball court once more.

“Blowjob.” Jake felt a little silly, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t planned on doing this until he drove by and saw his old haunt.

There were two young black men playing one-on-one basketball. They were both shirtless, their bare brown chests gleaming with sweat. One of them was very tall and lanky; the other was shorter and more muscular.


“What?” said one of them, the taller one. He was named Hardesty, and he stopped moving near the basket after having scored.

“I’ll suck you off, man,” Jake said. He smiled flirtatiously at Hardesty, stepped forward and placed one finger on his chest. Hardesty furrowed his brow and looked down at the finger. Jake scooped up sweat from his pectoral muscle, then sucked it off his finger.

Hardesty chuckled. “You crazy, man.”

Jake nodded. “Maybe. But I suck dick good.”

“Hey, whatchoo doin’, come on,” said the shorter player, jogging over to Hardesty. “We got a game goin’ on.”

“Sweetlips over here gonna suck off the winner,” Hardesty said. He and the shorter guy were both out of breath but trying to hide it so they didn’t look weak to each other.

“He gonna suck me off?” the shorter man said with a grin. “I ain’t agree to that, but… well, okay-“

“Nah, the winner,” Hardesty said. “He gonna suck off the winner. Me.”

“Winner? You gotta score some points, nigga. You light-years behind right now.”

“I’s only behind cuz you off on some travel, nigga, you been travelin’ all over this court-“

“Oh, come on, there ain’t no ref to work, boy, you just gotta play-“

They continued bickering as they resumed play. Jake was disappointed. He hadn’t gotten any firm answer. But they didn’t say no either.

The game was over soon after. Maybe Hardesty really wanted the blowjob and it made him play harder, because he scored three times in quick succession, giving him the lead. When the game was over, Hardesty pounded on his chest and flexed his biceps towards the folks hanging out on the sidelines. Most of them didn’t pay any attention. The only person who cheered was Jake.

Hardesty smiled awkwardly at him, as the shorter player laughed and patted Hardesty’s bare belly. Hardesty bit his lip and made eye contact with Jake.

“You got that, boy,” the shorter player said as he walked away, shirt in hand. He cackled. “You nasty, Hardesty. He ain’t even dressed like a girl.”

“Don’t be hatin’ just cuz I got meat that needs attention, nigga! Real thugs like me gotta get they shit handled!” Hardesty called out loud enough to attract attention from the others, who giggled at him. Hardesty grabbed his dick through his shorts and smiled at the girls. “Hey, how you doin’?”

They didn’t give him the time of day. Hardesty scoffed and walked away, basketball in hand. He nodded at Jake, who quietly and surreptitiously followed him into the public bathroom. It was almost never used, so it wasn’t dirty, but it was almost never cleaned, so it wasn’t clean either. It was just dusty and grimy. Jake knew it well.

He immediately sunk to his knees, even before the door had swung shut. Hardesty blocked the door with the heavy trash can so they’d have some privacy.

“Ain’t seen you… uh… Damn, boy, you in a rush?” Hardesty grimaced at Jake’s eagerness. Jake pulled his shorts and boxers down, then kissed his dick right on the tip.

“I don’t see any reason to slow down,” Jake said with a grin. He put the tip of Hardesty’s cock in his mouth and hocked up spit right onto it. Hardesty groaned and leaned against the wall of the bathroom.

“Goddamn,” Hardesty said. He closed his eyes. “Shit… Boy, you are one crazy gay.”

Jake smiled. He slathered spit all over Hardesty’s rod, which made Hardesty gasp and bite his lip like he hadn’t expected it to feel this good. Hardesty shifted and wiggled.

As his cock stiffened up in Jake’s mouth, Hardesty lifted his shirt up. He didn’t take it off, but he raised it over his head and the back of his neck. He had ropy muscles, which Jake reached up to caress, his bulging biceps, flat belly — though he didn’t quite have a six-pack — and his mountainous pecs. His muscles all twitched as though he didn’t entirely want Jake to feel him up but thought it would be rude to say that.

Jake didn’t mind. When he used to suck basketball players off, a lot of them thought it seemed too gay to let Jake do anything besides suck cock. They sometimes got angry if he even massaged their asscheeks or played with their balls.

Luckily, Hardesty didn’t seem too bothered by it, even if he did dumbfoundedly watch Jake’s fingers explore his body. A few drops of sweat ran down his skin and onto Jake’s hand.

“Shit… This is some nasty thug shit. Why don’t girls ever suck like this, man?” Hardesty asked as he leaned back and sighed. His whole body wriggled and he bit his lip.

“Girls don’t have the right equipment,” Jake said. He flopped Hardesty’s dick over his face. “They don’t know how it feels. Besides, girls like relationships and stuff. They don’t just suck off hot guys. They’re so stupid. If I was a girl, I’d be the biggest slut in the world, oh my god. I’d suck off all the thugs.” Jake giggled as salty precum flowed over his tongue and his lips.

“I bet you would.” He paused. “Hey, you smoke weed?”

Jake nodded. “You got some? Light it up, baby-“

“Nah, nah, I’s sellin’. You wanna buy?”

“Oh… no thanks,” Jake said. “I’ve already got a guy.”

“Who? What’s his name? Tell me,” Hardesty said with a big grin. He moved his hips, swaying his cock back and forth over Jake’s face. Jake chased it with his tongue.

“Greg. You don’t know him.”

“He gay?”

Jake nodded.

“Why you buy weed from a gay? They ain’t thugs. They don’t know nothin’-“

“He’s really convenient, sorry,” Jake said. He grabbed Hardesty’s dick and licked it all up and down, hoping that would punctuate how final Jake’s decision was.

“You shouldn’t buy weed from whiteboys.”

“I didn’t say he was white. I said he was gay.”

“He a nigga?”

Jake nodded. “They can be both.”

Hardesty bristled a little and shifted his weight between his feet. “Guess that’s okay then. If he evuh run out or somethin’, you gimme a call, I can hook you up.” He paused. “You gonna swallow my nut, right?”

“Of course.” Jake resumed deep-throating while Hardesty beamed like he was getting away with something. Hardesty’s hands wrapped over Jake’s head and he held on tight.

Hardesty moved his hips as though he was going to facefuck Jake, but Jake didn’t cooperate — he kept on moving his head and sucking, sputtering up mountains of spit which he then suckled right off Hardesty’s dick. Hardesty groaned and moaned, twisting, squirming, wincing when he saw that his boxers were soaked with spit.

“Ah shit, whoah…” Hardesty yelped. He stood on his toes, then his knees buckled and he almost collapsed onto the floor. He leaned against the wall. “Alright, yeah… I can take it, boi, go ‘head, keep on suckin’.”

Jake smiled to himself. He had Hardesty right where he wanted him. He rammed his mouth all the way down and forced Hardesty’s dick deep into his gullet. The sweet, musky flavor of his manmeat assaulted Jake’s senses and made his eyes water.

A sound came from Hardesty’s mouth, a mixture between a bark and a grunt, with a long, low sputtering quality. A few drops of drool even slipped out past Hardesty’s lips as his cock sprayed cum right into Jake’s throat.

Jake was well-practiced at this part — he loved swallowing cum. He stayed on his knees, holding onto Hardesty’s body with his nose nestled in Hardesty’s sweat-musky crotch. His bristly pubic hair scratched Jake’s face.

“Ah! Oh! Oh shit! Ah! Ah, damn, ah damn, don’t move, boy, damn, ah, ah, ah, ah…”

Hot and creamy cum coated Jake’s throat, while Hardesty squirmed and gasped. The flavor of salty, sour juices flooded Jake’s senses, making him think of nothing but servicing Hardesty’s hot body. Even as Jake felt himself growing dizzy from lack of oxygen, he stayed right there, swallowing every drop of cum.

Then he pulled off, with a loud lip-smacking moan. He had sprayed his own wad onto the linoleum floor of the public bathroom.

Hardesty had his eyes closed. He was a little pale, and he looked like he might cry. His whole body shook. “Holy shit, goddamn…” He sunk to the ground.

“Was that your first time?”

Hardesty chuckled dryly. “Yeah, man. I was gonna lie, I was gonna pretend I did this before. But… I ain’t got the energy to lie, man. I ain’t nevuh get a blowjob like that before. You my first male and… damn, you suck like you got somethin’ to prove.”

“You have a nice dick.”

“I think you ruined it man,” he said with a sigh. He was on the ground, his pants and boxers around his ankles. “Damn, you got me on the ground in this place. It’s nasty.”

“You want help up?” Jake asked as he stood and stretched his sore knees.

“Nah, man. Lemme just… I gotta recover, man. You got a cigarette? I don’t smoke, but…” He took a cigarette from Jake, who even lit it first for him. He took a deep drag off it. Despite his words, it looked like he did smoke — he inhaled like he knew what he was doing, and he didn’t cough.

Jake moved the trash can that blocked the door. Then he wrote down his phone number and gave it to Hardesty. “Anytime you want me to rock your world again, gimme a call.”

He walked out before the bleary-eyed Hardesty could come up with an answer.

Mandingo Meat: Plantation Lust

Here’s the entirety of Mandingo Meat: Plantation Lust, a new story in the Mandingo Meat series. You can read the complete series through the bundle as well!

David wandered around the plantation. It was late in the season, after harvest, so there wasn’t a ton of activity, especially since it wasn’t a very nice day. It was warm but it had been drizzling for hours. It was somehow both too cold and too warm for David.

This was his first time in South Carolina, so he didn’t know how normal the weather was. He finally found the man he was looking for late in the afternoon. David watched him work for a little while.

David was in South Carolina in the year 1784. David was, however, not from this time. He was from the modern era. He had built a time machine that would allow him to travel among the sexiest black mandingos and studs in history, and the machine had sent him here, to the Salford Plantation in coastal South Carolina.

The machine also set David up with clothes and other affectations necessary to pass as a local in this time. So when he approached the slave hauling brush away from a clearing, David looked like a free black man. He was dressed in a fine shirt and clean pants, and his hair was impeccable.

The other man was Walter, a field slave who was more than six and a half feet tall. He had a broad back and veiny biceps, with thick trunk-like thighs. He wore nothing but half-trousers right now, his shirt laying on the ground nearby. He grunted as he rolled a log away from the clearing — the Salfords wanted to build a new barn here, so Walter was clearing away brush and dead tree remnants in order to make room.

He stopped working when he saw David approach. He furrowed his brow. He probably hadn’t seen very many free black men.

“Howdy,” David said when he got near.

Walter nodded. He eyed him suspiciously. “Howdy, suh.”

“My name is David Turnbull.”


“Nice to meet you, Walter,” David said. He smiled flirtatiously. He didn’t always act flamboyantly gay — he could be str8-acting when he needed to be — but he let his limp wrist fly now, so Walter would get an idea what was happening. Even back then, David had found that a limp wrist and a feminine laugh was enough to get most men to understand. David smiled. “I’m just coming by because I heard a rumor about you…”

“Rumor? What kinda rumor?” He smiled too, and his eyes traveled up and down David’s body as though checking that there was no chance he might be a woman after all.

“I heard that you got a massive cock, and that you enjoy using it,” David said. He came closer.

“Yup.” He smiled cockily. He grabbed his uncut cock beneath his britches. He did indeed have a huge mandingo manhood, which made David’s mouth water even though he hadn’t seen it yet.

“I also heard that your master will allow you to buy your own freedom,” David said. He jingled some coins in his pocket. “I’ve got enough here for you to free yourself and your wife, and to buy a house for your family.”

“You serious?”

“I’m as serious as a sermon,” he said. “All you gotta do is fuck me.”

“Hell yeah,” Walter said. He looked around and dragged Walter to the other side of the massive tree that had fallen over some time ago. It was big enough to provide plenty of privacy. “Masta Salford won’t let me do it, you know. He won’t take the money if he knows it be comin’ from… you know… this. He a Christian man.”

“Oh, well-“

“I mean, I’s a Christian too, reckon,” Walter said, blurting it out like he worried he had given David the wrong impression. “I just… I ain’t gonna let my child be born as a slave, not if I can help it.”

David smiled at him. Walter leaned against the decaying trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. He looked up at the sky. He reached into his britches and brought out a gigantic dick, easily a foot long, maybe longer. It made David’s mouth water just looking at it. He licked his lips.

He planted his tongue right on the tip, and Walter jumped like he had thought David wasn’t going to go through with it — he still faced upward, so he didn’t see it happen. He groaned and muttered to himself.

“There you go, suh, you gettin’ right into it…”

David slobbered saliva all over it, because he knew that would get Walter hard the quickest. Men with big cocks sometimes needed a little extra work to get hard, David knew that well since he spent most of his time tracking down mandingos to suck off. Walter’s dick was limp on David’s tongue, but it soon began to throb and tingle and twitch.

That was a delightful sensation, David always thought. He loved feeling a man’s cock perk up and stiffen in his mouth. He liked experiencing the transition from soft and sleepy to stiff and slick.

“Well, hot damn, suh, you got a nicer mouth than Abraham, fo’ sho’,” he said. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “Abraham is the girlie-boy slave we got ‘round here. He works in the house, but Mastuh Salford lets him come out and swing on my meat sometimes. Mastuh Salford says a nigguh wit’ a big meat like me, he say I need constant attention or my balls get infected. You know ‘bout that?”

David didn’t answer, and Walter didn’t seem to expect it. He pumped his hips to ease his manhood down a little farther. David focused on deep-throating the best he could, nuzzling his nose in Walter’s dense kinky pubic hair.

There was no way he could swallow that entire rod, but David loved to try. He rammed his own head down until he choked, and there were still several veiny, throbbing inches of delicious manmeat waiting for him to suck.

The taste was fresh and salty from the day’s sweat. Huge men like Walter always had a particular flavor, that was half the reason David loved them so much. There was something warm and sunshiney about it, with a thick, billowy cottony taste that he could savor for hours like a fine wine. He let Walter’s sweat trickle down his throat and leave a layer that would remain there for days, flavoring all of David’s food with the taste of Walter’s manhood.

Hey, Walter!

Walter snapped. He bit his lip, and his eyes narrowed. He pushed David down farther so he was hidden by the dead tree. Walter looked back towards the manor house.

“Howdy, Mistuh Salford!”

What are you doin’, you lazy bastard?!

“I’m doing what you say, suh! I’m clearin’ up the space-“

I can see you ain’t doin’ nothin’, you leanin’ there, restin’! You got work to do, boy!

“Yes, suh, Mistuh Salford.”

That better get done by nightfall, or I’ll tan your hide!

“Yes, suh, Mistuh Salford.” Walter snarled. He spat on the ground. He grabbed one of the larger branches that had snapped off the main trunk, and he carried it a few feet. Saliva dripped from his cock. When he saw that Mister Salford was gone, he dropped the branch where it lay.

“Sorry, I ain’t mean to get you in trouble,” David said.

He sucked on his teeth. “Don’t fret. It ain’t no thing. He will not do nuthin’. He give you permission to come here?”


“You be arrested if you get caught, he don’t cotton to free men consortin’ wit’ his nigguhs. You get yaself sold into slavery if you caught, mistuh” Walter said. His nostrils flared like he was angry, but he sighed, resigned and annoyed. “You put yaself in a lotta risk, mistuh…”

“I know. Your cock is worth it,” David said.

“You crazy. You one crazy nigguh. When I buy my freedom, is I gonna go crazy too?”

“No. You’ll be fine,” David said with a smile. He bent backwards over a thick branch, which pressed uncomfortably against his upper back. He laid so that his head was draped upside-down over the edge of the branch — perfect throat-fucking position.

“I swear to God, I will kill that man — Nevuhmind,” he smiled at David when he realized what he was about to say. “Nevuhmind.”

“Your secret is safe with me. I won’t even be around when it happens,” David said.

“I wouldn’t nevuh kill no man. I’s a Christian nigguh. I’s a church-goin’ nigguh,” he said. “I learnt how to behave propuh.” He chuckled as he approached Walter again, cock swaying between his thighs. “I don’t always choose to b’have propuh, but I know how to do it. Don’t you tell no one I threaten to kill a white man.”

“I won’t. You didn’t.”

He dropped to his knees at David’s face, which placed his still-hard dick right at cock-sucking height. He leaned over David’s body — if he had opened his mouth, he could have begun sixty-nining, but of course, he was too straight to even think of that. He just plowed his cock down David’s throat.

Walter groaned and smacked his lips. His cock invaded David’s throat once more, this time with the musty flavor of saliva and the spicy-salty scent of precum joining the mixture. David gurgled and sucked it down the best he could.

“Ah, there you go… Your throat feels like my wife’s pussy,” Walter said softly, then he cackled so loud it echoed in the woods. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

David’s throat was full, of course, but he said yes the best he could. He was dizzy now from lack of oxygen. Since Walter was in charge of the speed and timing of this blowjob, he seemed to have completely forgotten that David required oxygen. He slammed his cock in until it wouldn’t go any farther, then he ignored David’s choking and sputtering and swayed his hips, grinding, pushing, slamming until he finally got his entire cock in David’s throat.

It felt like his neck was going to explode. David loved it. He could feel and taste every inch of Walter’s body in this position — he always felt that way when a man’s cock was inside him; his cock was the window to his soul. Even though David couldn’t see anything but the heavy, hairy balls throbbing in front of his eyes, David could sense and even taste the musty sweat trickling down Walter’s asscrack, the crackened skin of his whip-scarred back and even the moistness of his mouth and tongue as though they kissed.

“Hot hell, nigguh, if you want me in ya ass, I better do it now before I blow,” he said with a long, low groan. “Ya mouth is nicer than a junebug in July.”

He didn’t wait for David to respond, which was good because David was deliriously dizzy from lack of oxygen. He gasped when Walter finally pulled out of his throat, and he heaved for air. That made Walter chuckle, his cock twitching where it rested against David’s face.

“Yo’ ass ain’t virgin, is it?” Walter asked with a frown. He dragged David up and bent him over the same branch again. David was too weak to choose his own position, so he allowed Walter to lift his ass up and push his head down.


“Good. Virgins is nice but I gotta go slow. My wife just ‘bout started crying on our wedding night,” he said. He sniffled like that memory made him sad. “And when Mastuh Salford tell me to plow down on some white man a couple years ago, he had me ragin’ on ‘ccount of him saying ‘slow down’ and shit.” He snarled. “I don’t like slowin’ down once I get started, nigguh.”

“You can fuck me hard,” David said. He had already slipped some modern lube on his ass, back before he found Walter — he always brought his own lube. He giggled.

“I know I can, nigguh,” Walter said. He snorted like an angry horse. He slipped one finger into David’s ass, sending a jolt of pain up his spine. That was followed up by an explosion of pleasure, which made David sigh. Walter chuckled. “You sound like Abraham. Open dat ass up, suh. Lemme in there.”

“Please, stick it in me, Walter, I need you inside me,” David said. Then he let out a cringing moan as his ass stretched to accommodate Walter’s cock.

Just the tip slid in first, and that was enough to make David lift his head and grunt. His face turned bright red as he struggled to accept it all. Walter was oblivious — just like with the blowjob, he seemed uncomfortable with the idea of watching. He kept his face pointed up, both avoiding looking and keeping an eye out for Mr. Salford or anyone else who might disturb them.

The pain grew worse, yet more distant so David could easily ignore it. He focused on the spark of pleasure that erupted deep in his ass when Walter’s cock tickled his prostate. That spark grew stronger with each thrust of Walter’s hips into him.

David groaned as another few inches slid inside, and the pressure grew unbearable. David bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He flailed and clawed at the ground underneath himself.

“Ah, god damn…”

Walter stopped moving and snarled. He slapped David’s asscheek, and the back of his head. “Hey! I don’t like blaspheming, suh. You get ahold of yaself.” His dick twitched inside David’s ass, making David squirm.

“Yeah, sorry, sure,” David said, his voice tight and pinched. Some more of Walter’s cock rammed in, and he grunted. His voice was ruddy and dark, eyes bugging out.

“You wanna bite on my arm? The missus say that help,” he said. He sniffled and leaned forward so he could wrap his arm around David’s face. That placed his thickest forearm right in front of David’s mouth. “You can bite hard. Won’t bother me none.”

David just enjoyed the taste and the feel of his corded-muscle arm. He rubbed his face against it like a cat, giggling while Walter stood still. Finally David’s ass adjusted to his cock, and Walter resumed humping.

Once again, mind-numbing pressure erupted in David’s mind, and he screamed — this time there was an orgasmic note in his scream, making David writhe and Walter chuckle.

“Reckon that helped,” Walter said as David began to gnaw on his forearm. When the pressure in his ass got too great, David couldn’t avoid biting down hard as though trying to rip his flesh off. As promised, however, Walter didn’t even seem to notice. He kept a tight watch on his surroundings, waiting for Mr. Salford to show back up.

After that, Walter’s balls slapped against David’s thighs as he humped more and more powerfully. He was entirely in David now, his massive rod stretching and pulling at David’s asshole. David couldn’t bear to accept such a huge dick, but he couldn’t bear to stop Walter either.

He wasn’t even aware that he was jacking himself off. He was so intently focused on the sensations tearing his ass apart that his own orgasm caught him by surprise. He grunted and moaned, clenching down hard on Walter’s dick.

That was enough to send Walter over the edge as well. While pangs of pleasure exploded in David’s body, Walter’s cavernous chest flexed. David writhed. Walter gasped.

Walter’s heavy chest pressed down on David, and they both spasmed together. David couldn’t breathe, both from intense pleasure and the dense mat of muscle weighing down his smooth back.

“Gonna fill you up now, suh… You got nice ass…”

Finally a wave of hot cum sprayed into David, torrent after torrent of creamy juice coating his body. As always, Walter’s load transformed David’s biting, electric orgasm into a slow-melting candle-like climax. David howled, and Walter even joined him, his deep baritone voice harmonizing with David’s uncontrollable tenor.

It was both one of the most intense and the longest-lasting orgasm David had ever experienced. Walter kept on spraying more and more cum, breathing heavily on David’s back as he filled him up with seed. He shot so much it dripped in great clumps between David’s legs.

“Alrighty then,” Walter said with a gasp. His chest was covered in even more sweat than it had been before they started fucking. David craned his head to the side so he could sneak his tongue out and lick up beads of salty sweat from Walter’s muscle.

Walter’s whole body went limp. His giant muscles were dead weight, pressing down on David and suffocating him. That lasted only a moment, however, before Walter rolled over.

The most incredible sensation of relief ever flooded David — his ass emptied, sending a tinge of post-orgasmic bliss through his body; he took a deep breath now that he wasn’t weighed down by Walter’s massive corpus.

And then it was all over. David was exhausted and couldn’t even think about getting up. He just laid there on his belly, his face close enough that he could snake his tongue out for a taste of the sweat that stuck to Walter’s upper thigh. Walter didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were closed, and he rested against the dead tree he had been trying to demolish.


Walter swore and stood up. This time he didn’t try to conceal himself. He let his foot-long mandingo meat dangle between his legs, which made Mr. Salford grunt his disapproval.

Why ain’t ya wearin’ clothes, boy?

“I’s just relievin’ myself, suh,” Walter said. He flopped his cock between his fingers. “You know how it is wit’ meat like this. Takes me a few minutes.”

There’s an outhouse for you to use, Walter! This is a civilized plantation! You’re not back in Africa!

“Yessuh, Mr. Salford, I know. I ‘pologize mightily,” Walter said. He placed one hand on his own belly and pretended to hold back tears. “I ain’t mean to dis’ppoint you, nosirree! You been taught me a Christian lifestyle, and I’s real grateful-“

Well goddamn it, Walter, shut up and get to work. You don’t need to say you’re grateful, you can show it by doing your work!

Walter cleared his throat nervously. “Uh… Mr. Salford, you did promise Minister Tarant that you wouldn’t blaspheme so much-“

Fine! I apologize, Walter. Don’t tell my wife.

“Yessuh. I just would greatly ‘ppreciate it if you ain’t tempt my pagan ears wit’ blasphemy,” Walter said. “Sir.”

Get to work!

“Yessuh,” Walter said, then he softly added, “for now.” He looked at David, making intimate eye contact with him for the first time. “You got money for me, right?”

David handed it over as Mr. Salford left. Walter did some more work, lazily moving a few branches into the woods. He kept his britches off. When Mr. Salford was gone, he counted the money. He beamed brightly.

“Don’t tell no one ‘bout this,” Walter said. “I’m gonna leave this place wit’ e’rything valuable I can get.”

“Sure thing, Walter,” David said dreamily. He sat up. “Since you’re about to be a free man, I guess I should address you as sir. Sir.”

Masseur Seduction: The Finn and the Roughneck

Here’s the entirety of Masseur Seduction: The Finn and the Roughneck, and a hot new story of blue-collar lust and massage seduction! It’s part of the Masseur Seduction trilogy.

Dwayne is a rough-and-tumble redneck roughneck who didn’t especially want to get a massage, and he really didn’t want to get one from this massive muscle-bound Finnish masseur, Juha. But once it starts, Dwayne finds himself so turned on he loves every second of his masseur seduction! You won’t believe where Juha takes this outrageous short tale of one straight blue-collar’s first-time gay experience!


Dwayne went to the massage parlor kind of hoping it wouldn’t happen. He had never wanted to come here. It did not look like his kind of place. It was ornately decorated, sumptuous with dense carpets, incense burning and colorful tapestries. There was a statue of Buddha, fat and jolly and wise, made of gleaming brass with steel inlays.

He shifted nervously on his feet. Dwayne had never in his life gotten a massage, not even informally from a girlfriend or anything like that. He wondered if he was supposed to get naked. Was he too dirty? Was he supposed to take a shower first? No one told him that.

In Redfern, North Dakota, most people looked more like Dwayne than the fey Asian man at the desk inside. Dwayne was tall, broad-shouldered, clad in heavy workboots. He wore a knee brace atop his black jeans, and he walked with a limp.

That’s why he was here. His insurance company wanted him to get a massage before they paid for more expensive treatments. Dwayne did not like the idea of some stranger pawing over his body.

He didn’t visit prostitutes, but he would rather have gotten an awkward handjob from some skeezy lady than get a real massage from one of these clearly gay Asian men. (Will they enjoy feeling up my body?) But this was not a prostitution kind of massage parlor, he knew that. The masseur he was seeing was named Juha, and he was a certified medical professional. That was why Dwayne’s insurance company sent him here. He was the only qualified masseur in this section of North Dakota.

What kind of an Asian name was Juha anyway? It didn’t really sound Chinese or Japanese, he thought. Korean? Vietnamese? There were pictures of snow-capped mountains in the massage room he waited in, and pictures of a man skiing. There was a flag too. It wasn’t Japanese, but Dwayne couldn’t place it (Japan was the only Asian country whose flag he could picture off the top of his head).

The door opened, and Juha walked in. Dwayne’s heart sank.

Juha was not a slim gay Asian man at all. He was taller than Dwayne, and at least as muscular. He had long blond hair like a man from the cover of a romance novel. He glanced at Dwayne and smiled.

He spoke with an odd, singsong accent — Finnish — and introduced himself. He discussed Dwayne’s pain and had him take his clothes off. Dwayne hesitated, but did so. He left his underwear on.

He definitely felt dirty. There were smudges of grease on his legs. He had come straight from work. Juha was very clean, and he smelled like soap.

He lifted Dwayne’s leg up, which caused agonizing pain, but then he massaged the meat above and below Dwayne’s leg. Dwayne nearly stopped him the pain grew so bad.

“Oh, hey… Oh oh, shit, oooooh, shit, are you… is it…. Oooh shit…”

But Juha just ignored him and kept massaging. After a minute or two, the pain in Dwayne’s knee let up substantially. Juha moved down to his calf. Dwayne closed his eyes and tried to relax.

“You have much tension in you, yes,” Juha said. He sounded like the Swedish Chef, Dwayne thought, but with one of those very deep voices that rattled your bones. A lot of people said Dwayne had a voice like that, but his was softer, raspier, gentler — Juha was taller, so his voice was achingly baritone.

“Yeah.” Dwayne didn’t think he could relax while he was being pawed by this great big Finn. He gasped and sighed — was this almost over? He didn’t think he could take it.

And then a great sense of please overtook him. He relaxed almost instantly, and his knee felt so much better he had to look down to see if something was wrong. But no, the massage had just worked extremely well, at least for the moment.

“Wow, that feels… a lot better,” Dwayne said.

“That is good for certain, yes,” Juha said with a baritone grunt. “I must use oil now.” He grabbed a bottle of sweet-smelling massage oil and squirted it onto his hands. He worked it into Dwayne’s thighs.

Dwayne realized he had an erection only moments before Juha grabbed onto it with his lubed-up hand. Every fiber of Dwayne’s being told him to stop Juha, but it felt so good he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He just looked at it like a gory scene in a horror movie, one that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

“You will be better. You are tension too much,” Juha said with a grin. “It is okay. Do not have worry.”

“Uh-huh.” Dwayne’s teeth were gritted shut. He lifted his weight off his ass, jutting his hips upward.

His cock throbbed in Juha’s hand. Dwayne couldn’t believe how good it felt. The massage oil sent a wave of warmth and arousal through his body, and that feeling made him moan like a seduced girl. He blushed.

Then Dwayne’s dick disappeared into the burly Finn’s mouth. Dwayne threw his head back and bit a lip. He was humiliated and so turned-on he wanted to bust. His dick felt like it was going to explode.

This was the first time Dwayne had ever really been with a man. Once he and his roughneck buddies had been in Fargo for a weekend, and they all got a blowjob from a prostitute in an alley. That was the first time Dwayne had ever touched cocks with another man — one of his coworkers had insisted on jousting with him because Dwayne had a legendarily huge cock (that they had all seen in the showers). It was also the only time Dwayne had ever touched someone he thought was a man — afterwards, when it was all over, Dwayne had noticed an Adam’s apple and a distinctly masculine gait in the “woman” who had swallowed his nut. Dwayne chose to pretend he hadn’t seen it; he didn’t tell anyone, and he convinced himself that he should assume she was a woman until he saw solid proof refuting it.

But there was no doubting it this time. Juha’s broad, muscular back rippled in front of Dwayne’s face. Juha was built like a fieldhand. Dwayne hadn’t wanted to get sucked off by anyone, much less a man; if he had been forced into it, however, he would have preferred one of the fey Asian men. That would have been a lot like getting sucked off by a woman.

Juha sucked like a man, like he had a job to do and needed to do it the best he could. It wasn’t exactly erotic, though it did turn Dwayne on and make his dick spew precum. Juha sucked Dwayne deep, to the root, nose nestling in Dwayne’s unkempt pubic hair. He sucked like it was an attack, like he was violently annexing Dwayne’s cock to his throat.

“Oh, god, Juha!” Dwayne moaned. He writhed as though the pleasure emanating from his cock was actually pain. He touched Juha’s back, not deliberately, just as part of his flailing, and he shuddered at the sensation of his muscles writhing beneath Dwayne’s fingers.

But he didn’t move his hand away. His mind screamed at him to stop, to let go of Juha’s back — there was sweat there too, clinging to Dwayne’s skin where he touched it — yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It was like clutching a barrel of rope. Dwayne was strong, but he was not muscular like that, he had never had a six-pack. He had always had a thin layer of pudge over his powerful body. He had never had muscle-upon-muscle just beneath his taut skin, with seemingly not a drop of fat anywhere on him. Dwayne was jealous (sort of — guys with bodies like that got made fun of on the oil rig; everyone loved teasing prettyboys and making them dirty).

He wasn’t used to being the small guy in the room. Dwayne had hit six feet tall in the tenth grade, and he had only gotten taller since then. He was a baritone-voiced beast in most communities — only in this roughneck town was Dwayne seen as normal or even small-sized in comparison to the average local.

A chill ran up Dwayne’s spine. He realized his hand on Juha’s back had roamed lower. He didn’t mean to, but somehow his hand rested on Juha’s ass.

He had never touched a male ass (aside from some male bonding on his baseball team in high school) until now. He gulped nervously. Still his mind wanted him to stop even as his body refused to comply.

Why am I doing this? Dwayne felt like sobbing. His finger slipped into Juha’s asscrack. Was Juha manipulating him deliberately? Was it possible he had been hypnotized? Dwayne knew that was ridiculous, but he couldn’t understand why his body failed the feel the same revulsion his mind did.

His finger slipped into Juha’s ass. Dwayne had never even done that with a woman. Dwayne had lied to his coworkers about that. They talked about giving girls “The Shocker” — a sex move where you put two fingers in a girl’s pussy and one in her asshole — during a late-night jaw session, and Dwayne had felt left out, so he pretended he had done it. He wasn’t even sure it was a real thing, not just a joke. But everyone else reacted as though sticking a finger in a girl’s ass was normal, and Dwayne had pretended the same thing.

In truth, Dwayne was not very experienced with women. He was bold and confident when it came to his muscles, to work, to sports and to violence — he had been a high school wrestler and briefly, an amateur boxer — but he was completely lacking in confidence with girls. He’d only had sex with three women in his lifetime (he told his fellow roughnecks seven), and he’d only screwed one of them more than one time. He’d gotten his dick in that girl’s ass once, but she said it was too big and it hurt too much, so he had barely gotten started before she called it off.

It had felt amazing though. For those first few seconds when he had the first inch or so of his dick inside her tight, virginal asshole, he had nearly cum right there. Now he couldn’t even wait to do that again.

His finger slipped into Juha’s tight asshole. He was presumably not a virgin like that girl had been, but Dwayne was still shocked at how tight his ass was. Dwayne’s pinkie finger struggled in. Dwayne gurgled and bucked at shock that he would do such a thing.

Juha grunted around the cock in his throat. He licked the shaft, slathering spit up and down it. Dwayne couldn’t tear his eyes away from his finger plugged into Juha’s bubble-butt. Copious saliva dripped down his oil-slicked thigh.

“Oh god,” Dwayne gasped as Juha finally pulled off his cock. Dwayne sat up, but Juha just pushed him onto his back again on the massage table. “Uh… So, uh…”

“Shush,” Juha said. “Do not talk. It is not needed. I will give you relaxation and take away the tension that is inside of you.”

“Oh, uh…”

“Yes, excellent, good, very good,” Juha said. He stroked Dwayne’s dick, the waves of pleasure his hand sent up Dwayne’s spine distracted him enough that all he could do was sputter and mumble.

“Hm, oh, I see. Okay then, well, I uh… Okay, I see… Ah-hah, ah… Okay, well, that is, oh…” Dwayne threw his head back. He couldn’t watch. He knew what was coming and he didn’t want to stop it — but even if he didn’t much like it, he definitely didn’t want to see it.

Juha’s huge body didn’t prevent him from being quick and graceful as he climbed up onto the massage table. He gripped the sides of it with his feet like a chimpanzee, barely fitting his hulking body atop the massage table, which didn’t seem strong enough to support two huge men.

But the massage table did hold, as much as Dwayne rather wished it would break. That would, at least, mean he didn’t have to go through with this.

“Oh god…” Dwayne turned his head to the side so he didn’t have to see.

Juha sank down on his cock. Dwayne sighed and Juha twitched as Dwayne’s cock slipped into his tight ass. Juha stopped moving with his plump butt atop Dwayne’s manhood. He took a deep breath and held it, closing his eyes. He groaned and ground his hips from side to side, moving his ass over Dwayne’s cock.

“You are good, yes, okay?” Juha said. He leaned forward and massaged the meat of Dwayne’s pecs. Dwayne wasn’t used to being manhandled by someone so strong; it felt almost violent and painful, the way Juha rubbed his skin, like he wanted to rub Dwayne’s pecs all the way off and get access to his innards that way. Dwayne bristled and lifted his head up.

Dwayne kept his hands up. He fleetingly touched Juha’s back, but it felt too real to touch his spasming muscles now. Dwayne wondered if he could feel his own cock through Juha’s body. Definitely not, he decided, since Juha was such a huge thickbody. A thin, delicate woman, maybe? Or one of those fey Asian men.

Oh how Dwayne wished one of those Asian men might have come on to him. He would have refused that. It was ironic because, if he had given in and fucked one of the gay Asian men, he would have felt more comfortable with it. But his more comfortable feelings also would have meant he just said no. He disliked flamboyant gays anyway; he routinely got annoyed at their antics. It would have been easy to say no to someone like that.

Juha, however, had surprised him. Now Dwayne could do little more than keep his hands above his head, watching his dick slide haltingly into Juha’s broad ass. Juha struggled and bit his lip as he lowered himself. He used his thighs to control his descent, making it slow and even, inch by inch. Dwayne watched his cock disappear like he was being led to his own execution, which felt good for some strange morbid reason.

He tried to close his eyes, thinking it would be easier if he didn’t have to watch himself fuck a man, but that was not easier. As soon as he closed his eyes, he panicked, feeling out of control. At least watching, he could watch Juha’s back writhing and he could see that his cock was safe.

“Your knee is feeling much better in your leg, yes, no?” Juha asked when his ass was all the way down on Dwayne’s cock. He acted like that hardly mattered, like he hadn’t struggled to take it all. He rocked back and forth on Dwayne’s cock as he leaned forward and rubbed Dwayne’s knee again. “Does it have healing?”

His accent was not too hard to understand, but it was hard enough that Dwayne had to stop and concentrate. He nodded and bit his lip. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his cock. “Uh-huh.”

“Good, that is for excellency. That is healing, I am certain,” he said. “Do you have sauna?”

“Uh-huh.” Dwayne didn’t really listen to the question. There was, of course, no sauna on his oil rig, but there was a small showering nook — technically it was the women’s shower, but there were no women, so it was mainly unused — that was sometimes adapted into a sauna. The vents were closed or blocked, and the showerheads were turned on, with all but one on the hottest possible setting. The men sat in there, naked in the dark since the fluorescent lightbulbs had never been replaced and no longer worked. The five hot showerheads and one cold one combined to fill the room with steam. Dwayne and his friends would sit there and drink beer (kept cold in a cooler just outside the shower). He enjoyed that, in large part because he got the comfort of nudity without having to see or be seen due to the darkness.

“You should have use for sauna. It is Finnish, and it is very good for Finns. It will do much benefits for your knee,” Juha said.

“Ah. Okay.” Dwayne sharply inhaled. He could not even think about his knee right now. His heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he wanted more than anything for Juha to move. But the giant Finn just stayed still with his ass full of Dwayne’s cock.

“The steam is doing much good, it is certain, for sure,” Juha said. “You can also do steam bath. That is a thing, yes, it is, right?”

“Uh-huh. Yep,” Dwayne said. He had no idea what a steam bath was.

“Excellent, it will do much to promote your healing, yes,” Juha said. “You will fuck me now.”

He took a deep breath and lifted his ass, at last moving it atop Dwayne’s cock. Dwayne gasped. Juha seemed practiced and proficient at fucking in this position, though it seemed very awkward for Dwayne. Juha gripped the edges of the massage table with his toes and used his feet for leverage. He lifted himself almost all the way up off Dwayne’s cock, so Dwayne saw his entire pulsating, veiny shaft, then Juha lowered himself all the way back down.

When he planted himself on Dwayne’s dick, it sent a wave of pleasure up Dwayne’s spine. It was uncontrollably intense, mind-melting, and it made Dwayne moan like no woman had ever caused — he was normally so shy and reserved during sex he barely made a peep.

But this was already so incredible and stressful that he could do nothing more than submit to it. He certainly couldn’t filter his reactions or feel shyness. He just submitted.

The orgasm that erupted within him was so powerful he thought his shaking would break the table. Dwayne fully expected to plummet to the floor with that giant Finn on top of him — would that shatter my pelvis? He tried not to rock the table too much, but the feelings flowing through him were too potent not to move and shake.

“Oh god, yes!” Dwayne screamed, the first time he had ever done anything more than grunt when he came.

An orgasm ripped through his body, as Juha did the same, spraying his wad onto the floor of his massage room. Dwayne spurted his cum into Juha’s tight ass, sending jet after jet of his juices up inside Juha. Some of it ran right back down Dwayne’s shaft, coating his manhood in it and soaking his pubic hair.

Juha sighed. Dwayne grunted and gasped, feeling a mixture of relief, fear and pleasure. His hands gripped Juha’s ass again, despite his misgivings, and his fingers tightened into claws that held onto him tightly. Dwayne gulped and bit his tongue as the last aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body.

At last he was done. Dwayne’s limbs fell limp, arms dangling off the sides of the massage table. Juha slowly, awkwardly lifted himself off Dwayne’s cock. When his ass finally plopped off, both men sighed grandly. Intense relief flooded Dwayne; his dick was painfully sensitive at first, and the cold air made him gasp again.

“You are very good, you are nice man,” Juha said. He stretched his legs and his arms. He smiled broadly. He pulled his long blond hair back.


He grabbed some tissues from the box on his counter. He wiped off Dwayne’s cock and his own ass. Then he helped Dwayne up. “You are complete now. You can be going. I will massage you again in two weeks, yes?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Dwayne said. Once more, his mind told him to never return here again. His body wasn’t sure it could wait two whole weeks.

“Your insurance will cover two massages every time every month, every two weeks is appropriate, yes?”


“Excellent, good. I will do suck on your dick too, if you want. Come back to see me,” he said. He frowned. “Insurance company will not pay for that. You must pay if you come before two weeks.”

“Oh, okay,” Dwayne said as he hurriedly put his clothes back on.

Juha placed one thick, meaty hand on Dwayne’s shoulder while Dwayne laced up his heavy workboots. Dwayne bristled but didn’t make him move. He just grabbed his shirt — it felt too confrontational to put it on while Juha caressed his bare back — and stood.

“Uh, thanks,” Dwayne said. He turned around and walked out, shirt in hand. He could feel Juha’s eyes watching his ass shake in his faded dirt-caked jeans.

It was only as he walked out into the bright light of a warm North Dakota summer day that Dwayne knew what his decision was: yes. He’d spend the next two weeks listing all the reasons he shouldn’t come back. He was so focused on that he didn’t even notice how good his knee felt.

But at the end of it all, at the end of that last, was the only factor that really mattered: Dwayne really wanted to fuck again. He couldn’t wait to come back. Just so long as he didn’t have to tell anyone about it.

Ebony Jocks at the City Barbershop

Here’s a sample from the beginning of Ebony Jocks at the City Barbershop, a brand-new story of hot gay ebony urban fiction! It’s also part of the Gridiron Yards series of hardcore gay erotica about football jocks!

Willie could tell that the beefy young man waiting for a haircut wanted something more than a haircut. He had a feeling he knew what it was. But there was something alluring about a straight guy who was nervous about sex, so Willie didn’t hurry.

When another one of the barbers — Jameson — finished and offered his chair to the beefy young man, he shook his head and pointed to Willie as though it was a secret that he was waiting for him. Willie stuck his ass in the air and waved it around as he finished with the hair of the elderly man in his chair now.

The beefy young man tapped his feet. He was trying to look nonchalant, bobbing his head to the beat of the song on the radio. He pretended to be participating in the conversation Jameson was having with the third barber, Hardy.

But it was obvious he was bursting at the seams with anticipation. When Willie finally finished taking the money from the old man, the young buck leapt to his feet. He cleared his throat in a way that he surely hoped was not attention-grabbing but ended up making everyone else in the room look at him.

“Hey, uh… hi.”

“Hi! What’ll it be?” Willie smiled and giggled. He was the only gay man in the barbershop, so he was used to being the center of attention — he was the feminine element. This young beefy guy was clearly here hoping to get Willie to suck him off. That was not rare. But Willie liked to make his straight bait work for it.

“Uh… A special. A special haircut.” He spoke softly, which again drew much more attention than he had intended.

“Yo, Willie, just do it, man, quit torturin’ him,” Jameson said with a snicker.

“Do what, Jameson?” Willie asked with mock insouciance. He paused to take a long sip from the bottle of water on his counter.

Jameson rolled his eyes. He turned to the young man. “What’s yo’ name, nigga?”


“Okay, Lake, this is Willie. Willie, this is Lake. Willie, it is obvious to everyone that Lake wants you to suck his dick but is too shy to ask. Lake, it is obvious to everyone but you that Willie wants to suck your dick and likes to tease you-“

“Shut up, Jameson, come on, I don’t go out to the nightclubs and tell fat chicks you don’t eat pussy worth a damn,” Willie said. He pushed Jameson away. Everyone else in the barbershop erupted in howls of laughter. Jameson just rolled his eyes, while the beefy college-age kid, Lake, looked so nervous he was going to faint.

“I never had no complaints!” Jameson said as he walked away. He continued to discuss eating pussy loudly with the other straight men, all of whom boasted so loud that Willie and Lake had to raise their voices to be heard.

“So… Lake… that’s a cute name,” Willie said.

“Oh. Thanks. My mom came up with it.”

“Were you conceived at a lake?”

Lake’s eyes opened wide. “I-I-I don’t… I don’t know.”

Willie giggled. “Haven’t you ever asked why she named you that?”

He shook his head. “I think she just likes it.”

“So do you really want a blowjob?”

“Uh…” He had a very serious look on his face. He raised his voice to be heard but tried to whisper at the same time. “I don’t know if that’s… I was told I should ‘fuck you’.” He made little scare quotes. “But uh… Khalad ain’t elaborate, that’s all he said. I dunno if a blowjob is all that, y’know… They need.”

“Who? What?”

“Uh…” He sighed and glanced over at Jameson and them, who were laughing uproariously.

“Let’s go in the back,” Willie said. He took hold of Lake’s belt and held onto that. Lake leaned back as he walked, like he didn’t want to get any closer to Willie than he had to. Willie guided him by the belt to the backroom.

The others started making rude porno noises. Someone moaned oh, give it to me, Willie, stick it in me! Thanks for making me bottom! Lake bristled a bit as though he wanted to assert his dominance, but he was too nervous in this situation.

Once they were safely in the backroom, Lake breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know how to do this. I know how to hit on girls, you know, not-”

“You can treat me like that.”

He stepped forward and for a moment it looked like he was going to sweep Willie into his arms and kiss him. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that. Man… What if I can’t?”

“What is going on?”

“I’m on the football team at GHU, and the seniors said everyone on the team has to fuck a gay guy. It proves your masculinity or something. You were on the list.”

“I’m flattered,” Willie said. He made it seem like he didn’t know about the list, but in fact, he had asked to be on it.

“But all Khalad said was ‘fuck a gay guy’, or something, I don’t know, they ain’t say if it’s gotta be anal or not-“

“Relax, Lake, it’s okay, quit whining. You know you don’t have to do it, right?”

“They said the freshmen have to do it, no matter what.”

“How are they going to check? I’m not going to give them a list of the guys I sucked off, Lake. I promise I’ll tell them you did it, okay?” Willie paused. “But yeah, if it said you have to fuck, that implies anal.”


“Do you want to do it?”

“Kinda…” He bit his lip and looked down. “I’m not into guys.”

“You’re just horny?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s harder to get laid at college than I thought.”

He leaned back in Pete’s office chair. Pete would have hated that, which made Willie giggle — the owner, Pete, hated it when people sat in his chair. Willie got on his knees and fished Lake’s cock out of his pants.

Lake stiffened up and grunted. He closed his eyes when Willie’s tongue hit his cocktip, which stiffened up in Willie’s mouth. Lake was a healthy young athlete so his cock perked right up into a full erection almost right away. Willie liked that — sometimes the straight guys he serviced treated his blowjobs like a chore they had to struggle to complete, even when they initiated it.

Willie let his fingers roam up Lake’s body. Lake hadn’t taken off his jersey, so Willie had to sneak underneath it to touch his muscles, which were firm and stiff. Lake was tense. Willie could feel his anxiety roiling beneath his flesh, his worry that he was going to become gay or look gay or be perceived as gay or even just feel gay later. It made Willie giggle again.

“Have you ever fucked a girl in the ass?” Willie asked as he thwacked Lake’s cock all over his face.

“I’m not a virgin,” Lake said. “But no, I never got a girl to give up the booty — man, don’t tell no one. If they ask you about it, tell them I was an expert, that I fucked a lot of girls in the ass, okay? I don’t know how to do it.” He sniffled a little. Was he about to cry from tension? It almost looked like it.

“Lake, Lake, relax, nigga, chill out. I don’t like to tell people about everything I do, okay? I’m not gonna spread stuff about you. I promise they’re not even gonna ask, okay? They don’t care. They’re just teasing you.”


“They always tell freshmen weird shit like that because they wanna see what you’ll do,” Willie said. He turned and backed his ass up towards Lake’s cock. Lake kept his eyes closed, even as he listened attentively to Willie’s words. “Last year the seniors told the basketball freshmen they all had to cum on my face at the same time or they’d never make a three-pointer all season. That wasn’t a real superstition, they just wanted to make them do it and make fun of them for it when they finally did it after a bunch of tries-“

“You let them do it?”

“Is that a joke? Of course I let the basketball team bukkake me. I made it as tough as possible so they’d have to keep trying to cum simultaneously, over and over again” Willie said. He grimaced as he backed his ass onto Lake’s cock. There was a twinge of pain, but Willie was well-lubed and ready to go. He held his breath as that massive cock slid into his ass.

“I can guess why you never talked a girl into givin’ up the ass. You got some hefty meat, nigga,” Willie said with a laugh. The laughter made his back shake, which in turn caused a bolt of pain.

“Oh, sorry, does that hurt?”

“Yes, and don’t apologize,” Willie said. He leaned back and stroked Lake’s muscles beneath his football jersey. Struggling with the intense feelings in his ass, Willie lifted the football jersey off Lake’s body. That gave him easy access to nuzzle Lake’s barrel chest.

“Is that… I mean… do straight guys normally let you suck their chest? That’s weird,” Lake said.

“You can tell me to stop,” Willie said softly. “But most guys don’t mind. You have a great chest. Girls must love you.”

He shrugged. “I got a girl,” he said. He groaned and exhaled sharply. His cock twitched in Willie’s ass.

“You have a girl?”

He nodded. He opened his mouth to say something — probably her name — but then he just moaned and grunted. Willie kissed him on the neck, stretching to reach it because Willie was so much shorter than Lake.

“She doesn’t do anal?”

Lake chuckled. “Nah. She say she don’t do that. She say only sluts do that.”

“You poor baby… Does she suck your dick at least?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“I know what that means,” Willie said. “Well anytime she leaves you hanging, you can come see me, big guy. I’ll take care of you.” Willie bit his lip. “Are you going to tell her about this?”

“Hell no,” he said. It sounded like he was having trouble talking now, unable to concentrate as he approached his orgasm. He even very briefly kissed Willie’s earlobe before shuddered at the realization was sort-of making out with a gay man. A tortured cry escaped from his throat.

And then cum flew into Willie’s ass, coating his prostate in creamy warmth. Willie moaned as well, and the pressure inside his ass was enough to send him over the edge too. He shot a big wad that sprayed over his chest and belly, filling the air in Pete’s office with the cottony scent of cum.

“Ah, damn…” Lake said. He shuddered. When Willie started to pull off his dick, Lake grunted and spasmed, his whole body shaking.

Then his dick at last plopped out. Lake looked down at it, his muscles utterly relaxed — he had gone from tense and firm as a statue to a limp pile of brown muscles in just a few minutes. Willie licked some of the sweat off Lake’s chest and biceps.

“What the fuck?! Willie! Willie, you piece of shit!” Pete’s voice rang out. He barged into his own office. “You! Whoever you are, nigga, get your bare ass outta my chair! I oughtta kick your ass!”

Lake was scared of getting in trouble, even though Pete had no authority over him. All Pete could do was kick Lake out of the barbershop. He could, in theory, have fired Willie.

But Willie knew that wouldn’t happen. Every City Barbershop had a gay guy; it was virtually in the corporate handbook. Willie’s blowjobs kept the sexy straight studs coming in, and they made the place popular enough and hip enough to bring in everyone else. Pete wouldn’t fire Willie to replace him with a different gay guy (who would almost certainly continue sucking guys off in Pete’s chair anyway).

So Willie teased him, rubbing and caressing Lake’s muscles as Lake hurried to put his clothes back on and Pete screamed at him to hurry up. Willie dove his face between Lake’s big quarterback asscheeks while Lake tried to pull his pants up. Willie giggled as Pete roared in frustration and dragged Lake out the best he could — it was tough because Lake’s pants were around his ankles and because Lake was a huge athlete twice Pete’s middle-aged size.

Eventually, however, that left Willie there alone to giggle and wait for Pete to return to his office.

“I ain’t talkin’ to you, nigga.”

“You don’t gotta talk,” Willie said. “You want a blowjob?”

“Just go cut someone’s hair!”

Hairback Trade: Rim the Roughneck

Here’s the entirety of Hairback Trade: Rim the Roughneck, a new tale from the Str8 Trade universe! It’s the first in an ongoing series of gay erotica about sexy men with hairy backs!

When Shane arranged for the encounter at Site G9, an oil rig in a remote part of North Dakota, he was deliberately vague about what he wanted. Roughnecks were one of the easiest kind of straight guy to suck off — the only hard part was getting to them at their workplaces. When they were off, they fucked women, no matter how ugly or skanky. But when they were stuck on oil rigs far from civilization, Shane could have his pick. There was a tradition on oil rigs — it’s not gay if the nearest woman is a hundred miles away was how it was put to Shane. That was a tradition he could get behind (or more often, in front of).

The locker room stank to high heaven, which meant Shane was rock-hard from the moment he walked in. He loved the smell of sweat and toil, filth, grease and raunchy bodyjuice. The men were loud and boisterous. He had insisted he get his pick before anyone showered, so the scent was freshly rank.

Space was at a premium, and the locker room was crowded. About fifty hairy, unkempt men were crammed in, asses to elbows. When they saw Shane, everyone fell silent. He squeezed through the crowd as someone began to hoot.

“Who you gonna pick?”

“Pick Albert, he got a big ol’ schlong-“

“Fuck you, man, shut yer mouth.”

But Shane knew whom he wanted. He just wanted to take his time. He brushed past all of the men, most of whom were naked, or at least stripped to their boxers. He snaked his tongue into the nooks and crannies of their bodies, teasing bits of armpit sweat, biceps, and even a lick of one plump young hairy buttcheek.

“Albert’s over there-“

“He’s the one you want, I’m sure-“

“Shut the fuck up!”

Albert was indeed very hot. Shane went over to him — it was clear which one he was because he was blushing and insisting Shane not choose him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a jutting jaw, the kind of guy who seems more handsome than he really is, a bit too tall and scruffy for most women (though Shane suspected that, when he cleaned himself up and went out on the town, he was very successful with chicks). He had a deep voice, a hairy chest and a grizzled chin. Shane licked his pecs, prompting a torrent of laughter.

The other guys all suggested Albert because he was the most classically handsome, the one that gay guys had hit on the most in the past. Shane wouldn’t have turned him down.

But Shane had promised to pay for all of these men to have a wild weekend off, as long as he got his taste of whichever one he chose. He did not want Albert. Shane liked a particular kind of man. Albert was entirely too handsome.

He had known who his target was before he ever got to North Dakota. He wanted Joseph, the one they called Tex. He sucked on Albert’s nipple, his pec nervously throbbing and flexing in Shane’s mouth, while everyone else sighed with relief, thinking they had not been chosen. Albert groaned — he had probably suspected he’d be the one picked. He endured Shane’s tongue on his chest and belly like a man letting his doctor palpate him, just getting through it and rolling his eyes until it was done.

But then Shane pointed to Tex, who was shocked at the sudden reversal. Everyone laughed like it was a joke.

Tex was not classically handsome at all — he was craggy, rough, grizzled, with a big nasty scar running across his neck like he had been nearly decapitated once. He was also very hairy, especially on his back, a thick nest of kinky black hairs extending down to his ass. That was what Shane wanted.

He loved hairbacks, and Tex’s hefty body and hairy back were exactly what he had been searching for. Tex blushed — he was very tan, so it wasn’t real obvious at first, but when the other roughnecks realized that Shane wanted Tex instead of Albert, they clapped and hooted and slapped Tex’s ass until he barked at them to stop. Soon Tex was beet-red even through his tan skin.

“Hey, why you wanna service him? He’s a hairy motherfucker!”

“Yeah, I thought he’d be last on ya list, princess.”

“Gays like it dirty, man, don’t you know anything?”

“When did you become a gayologist?”

Shane smiled. He kissed Tex right on that scar on his neck. He bristled a bit but allowed it. His whole body was stiff like a robot. Shane rammed his hand down Tex’s paper-thin white boxers — were they prison-issue boxers? They looked like it, Shane thought — and grabbed his dick. It was throbbingly huge, and it perked up like he was very horny, or maybe he just liked attention.

“I like hairy backs,” Shane said. He turned Tex around and licked all the way up from the small of his back to his shoulders — as far as Shane could reach on his short legs. He snuffled down every drop of sweat he found. There was so much hair that Shane’s tongue got stuck there, and had to push through the fur. Tex bent his knees a bit, sticking his ass out and lowering his back enough that Shane could run his tongue all the way up to his neck.

The roughnecks cheered as Tex snorted and chuckled. He sort of dance a little on his feet, like an athlete warming up before practice. Shane kept a tight hold on his limp dick the whole time.

“Get down on all fours so I can lick your butthole,” Shane said, blushing. He had to whisper it to Tex, who cheered even though he looked mortified. He got down on all fours and covered his head, so his face was near the shower drain, just in front of the bank of lockers against one wall.

Shane planted his face right down there in the crack of Tex’s ass. It was so hairy that Shane’s tongue couldn’t even get to the hole. He encountered a thick tangle of greasy hair, and Shane began by teasing it clear with his tongue.

“Ah, fuck…” Tex moaned. He covered his face and howled into the floor like a sad wolf. The sound boomed and echoed in the metal-walled showering area.

“He’s lickin’ ya ass like a inside-out lollipop…”

“Damn, Tex, I ain’t nevuh realize how hairy you is. You like a sasquatch.”

“No wonder girls ain’t into ya, man, you gotta shave!”

“Fuck you!” Tex roared. He lifted his head up to reveal a bright red face. His scraggly beard hairs quivered. “Y’all wanna shave my back and my ass?”

“No way!”

“Fuck that shit, I ain’t goin’ near it!”

Tex frowned. “See? I can’t shave it myself,” he said. He groaned and looked behind himself at Shane’s face disappearing between his cheeks. He gagged at the sight. “Aw, fuck I feel it! I feel it, man! His tongue is in my ass, man, I feel it!”

He didn’t actually feel it — Shane didn’t say anything, but Tex was mistaken: Shane had made contact with his asshole, but hadn’t actually gotten his tongue in there yet. He just teased the rim and sucked up all the sweat and grime from his crack.

“He got his tongue in there, man! I ain’t know they put their tongues in there! I ain’t know they did that!” Tex said. He laughed nervously, a deep belly laugh that made his asshole flare and open wide.

Shane used the opportunity to plunge his tongue all the way in. He got a burst of stale, stinky musk on his tongue. It made him croon and moan. He had rarely gotten such a delicious asshole, and he was glad — this was already worth the thousand mile trip to this remote section of North Dakota.

“Aw, fuck! Aw, fuck!” Tex looked like he was about ready to cry. He gasped and moaned while his friends hooted and teased him. He stuck his face up in the air. His muscles were all tense, perfectly still except for his ass, which undulated uncontrollably. He rubbed his ass all over Shane’s tongue.

“Holy shit, Tex, you really into that. If you like stickin’ stuff up ya asshole, I got somethin’ you could try.”

“Texans are always into it. Texans love butt-stuff. That’s a fact.”

“Fuck you guys.” Tex’s voice was weak and distracted.

“Only thing in Texas is queers and steers, and I don’t see no horns on you,” someone said, prompting a chorus of laughter from the others. He got down real low and squeezed Tex’s cheeks like a doting grandmother. Tex swatted his hands away.

“Get off me, man.” Tex let out a long, slow growl. He probably intended for it to be menacing, but he was so aroused it just sounded like a seductive moan.

Now that Shane had been lapping at for a few minutes, Tex’s ass was wide open. Tex cringed and squirmed as Shane’s tongue filled him up. Shane could feel Tex’s spongy prostate, and he teased it, giggling into the man’s hairy asshole when it made Tex shake and gasp.

When Shane reached underneath Tex’s body, between his legs, to grab his dick, Tex chuckled. “Ah, damn, he’s jackin’ me off, man, he’s jackin’ me off… Ah shit, ah shit…”

“You lookin’ pretty nice bent over on all fours, Tex. He got ya asshole all loosened up with that tongue… You wanna fuck?”

“I will destroy you if you try anythin’, man,” Tex said with a grunt. He lifted his upper body off the ground, groaning as though it hurt to do so with Shane’s tongue in his ass. Tex reached for his friend to punch him, but he twitched and fell back onto his hands and knees as Shane’s tongue rammed into his prostate.

The other roughnecks burst into laughter. They teased the red-faced Tex mercilessly as Tex shuddered and shook. His cock leaked precum into Shane’s fingers, and his hairy ass clenched around Shane’s face.

“Gonna ride you like a cowboy, hoss!” said one redneck, a lean and lanky one with a colorful tattoo of a bald eagle on his lower back. He had a big, long dick swaying between his legs. He mounted Tex’s back, just in front of Shane’s face in his ass. He plopped himself on Tex, bare cock and balls landing on Tex’s writhing back muscles.

“Get off me!” Tex yelled. He squirmed and would have thrown the would-be cowboy off his back, but the man just stood. He hesitated there, waiting with his balls resting on Tex’s spine. He cackled until Shane moved his tongue from Tex to the other man’s ass, so quick nobody noticed until it was too late.

He just rammed his tongue in for a second, and the other man blushed a bright red. He danced away so fast he slipped on the wet floor and landed in a pile of roughnecks. Shane giggled, crawled over and threw himself on the same pile.

“Fuck you!”

“Get ya cock off me, bitch!”

This tiny showering area was seemingly made for maybe twenty men — there were fewer than two dozen showerheads. But there were fifty men in here, and they all had tried to stay as far away from the rimjob as possible. So all fifty men were crammed in a space so tight they rubbed up against each other. They didn’t seem to mind too much — that kind of situation happened a lot on oil rigs. But it did mean that, when the one guy darted away and into the crowd of men, he knocked just one or two people over. The whole space was so crowded that it caused a chain reaction, and soon most of the men were in a hairy, muscle-bound pile of flesh.

And that was where Shane went. He knew it wouldn’t last long, and it wouldn’t be as sexy in reality as it seemed in his mind — these kinds of things never really were. The men disentangled themselves pretty quickly, and Shane just stuck his tongue out to lick whatever he could get. That meant he got a lot of dusty elbows and glancing licks, a few brief touches of limp cockmeat, that was about it.

But Shane hardly minded. The sexiest thing about it was not so much that he got to touch lots of men, it was that they pulled away from him so forcefully that, when they stood, they were in an even smaller area. They were virtually dry-humping each other now. Shane saw fat redneck cocks disappearing into hairy assholes, muscles rubbing on muscles, hands tightened into fists that dangled stiffly at their sides.

“I’ll kick ya ass, man, I swear to God. You had best get ya dick off my ass.”

“Jerry’s hard!”

“No, I ain’t man, I just got a big dick.”

“Ah shit that hurt, you accidentally kicked me in the nuts when you knocked into me, man.”

“How do ya know it was an accident, fucker?”

They continued to trash-talk each other. They continued to demand that the others spread out some more, since there was a pretty big area in front of Tex, but no one wanted to get close to the action. The ones who were nearest complained about “splashback”, while the others complained about the smell of roughneck sweat filling up the shower. Tex still blushed a deep beet-red. He had plopped himself down on his ass on the floor. He looked at Shane with a big nervous grin on his face.

“So, uh, you wanna suck my dick now?”

“Hell yeah, but only if you promise to let me deep-throat you,” Shane said, prompting a nervous giggle from Tex — even his giggles were so loud and baritone they echoed — and laughing jeers from the others. Shane got down on the ground, laying on his belly.

He plopped Tex’s fat cock in his mouth. It was salty and hot, iron-hard already. It filled up Shane’s throat, prompting a torrent of choked gags as Shane took in as much as he could.

He was a very good deep-throater. Shane was a perfectionist though, so he was disappointed when Tex’s fat cock proved to be too thick to swallow all the way. Shane got just close enough he could feel Tex’s wiry pubic hair on his nose.

“Damn, Tex, he got you deep!”

Tex threw his head back and moaned so violently it sounded like a cry for help. He covered his eyes with one hand. His powerful torso trembled. His muscles all flexed at once.

An explosion of salty precum hit Shane’s tongue. He moaned and swallowed down every drop, gurgling moistly to make enough noise he could be heard over the catcalls and laughter. It was clear no one had ever deep-throated Tex, at least not anywhere’s near as deep as Shane got.

“He suck you off better than Mariah!”

“He got better tits than Mariah too! She got them saggy old titties!”

From their continued joking, Shane gathered that Mariah was a prostitute who charged them only five dollars for a behind-the-dumpster blowjob. Every time they had leave in town, they swore they’d get a different girl — a non-whore — and seduce her, and every time, the vast majority of them ended up getting a blowjob from Mariah, the possible-tranny behind a dumpster.

“I swear, I touched ‘em, they ain’t real-“

“No tranny would get saggy tits put in, man, that ain’t how they do sex-changes!”

“You don’t know jack-shit about trannies! Maybe she’s pre-op!”

A loud, powerful howl emanated from Tex’s throat. It made him wince and blush as his coworkers all fell silent, watching his muscles writhe and squirm beneath Shane’s mouth. His cock was on the verge of orgasm: Shane could feel that in the throbbing of his shaft and the juicy heaviness of his balls, just beginning to rise up in his sac.

Shane pulled off. Tex barked incomprehensibly, his whole body jerking in frustration. Shane licked a trail up his chest, sucking off every drop of sweat. Tex had been sweaty from the day’s work, and he hadn’t showered yet, so there was a layer of dusty, sun-drenched musk, clinging to his hairy flesh. Shane teased every kinky black hair with his tongue, cleaning all the sweat off his pecs, his flat but not six-packed abs, his bulging biceps and firm calves. He even sucked on Tex’s hairy toes.

But beneath the day’s sweat lay a more fresh musk, a rutting smell, like pure, bottled sex itself. That was the sweat generated right now, by Tex’s fucking. It had both a sourness and a sweetness that made Shane crave more. This, he thought, should be bottled and sold in gay nightclubs. It was intensely salty, with a metallic afternote that reminded Shane of licking the filthy steel floor and walls of the oil rig’s showering area.

Shane plopped his ass down on Tex’s cock. Tex’s eyes were closed, both forearms covering his face. Shane lowered himself on Tex’s cock, grunting when there was a burst of pain. Tex’s dick was thick enough to hurt even for Shane’s well-practiced ass.

“Fuck him, Tex! Fuck him! Hell yeah!”

“We ain’t gonna have to settle for Mariah this weekend! We gonna get that Asian chick!”

It sounded like they all agreed to fuck the Asian prostitute, like they had been planning on saving up to fuck her anyway. They clapped and hooted, cheering Tex on.

Shane timed his orgasm perfectly — he was an expert at doing that. He faced Tex and rode him in the cowgirl position, so when Tex reached his own climax and Shane allowed himself to do so at the same time, Shane sprayed his wad all over Tex’s hairy chest.

Tex gasped and boomed, his callused fingers gripping Shane’s ass and holding him down deep on his cock. Hot cum spurted into Shane, each drop teasing his prostate into releasing more orgasm in Shane’s veins. It flowed through him. He moaned loud enough to be heard over the cheering and jeering of the other rednecks.

“Aaaaaaaaah!” Tex moaned as pleasure wafted through his body. His muscles tensed. A symphony of emotions played out on his face — pleasure from the orgasm, of course, but also disgust at the sight of another man’s cum plastering his chest hair to his skin, humiliation at the realization that his friends were going to tease him for getting cum on his body, pride that his own fuckery and big cock was going to get a nice weekend off for all of his buddies, and a bit of fear like he thought it might hurt to have cum on his chest.

Finally it was all over. Tex gasped and his whole body jerked. His cock twitched within Shane, who threw his head back and howled as his own orgasm continued. The dick in his ass sent wave after wave of white-hot pleasure up his spine. His toes curled, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug at Tex’s meaty chest.

“Alright, gayboy, you got what you paid for,” Tex said, his voice weak and breathless. “You can get off me now.”

“Okay, okay,” Shane said. He sighed. He didn’t want to get off just yet. Luckily both he and Tex were sweaty enough to be slippery. When Shane leaned on Tex’s sweat-and-cum-coated chest to support himself, his hands slipped right off. Shane landed with a grunt on Tex’s chest, his cock still in Shane’s ass. Shane moaned as a post-orgasmic burst of bliss hit him, while Tex grunted and shook like a wet dog — it wasn’t clear if he enjoyed his limp dick in Shane’s ass or if his sense of disgust outweighed it, especially now that Shane leaned forward, balls dragging on Tex’s belly, smearing his cumwad all over his hairy torso.

Finally Shane rolled off. They both breathed an intense sigh of relief. The ruddiness drained away from Tex’s face, and he watched with a bemused, faintly disgusted look on his face as Shane licked all the sweat off Tex’s hairy chest.

“Alright, you got it all, man,” Tex said after humoring him for a few minutes. “You’s actin’ like a dog tryin’-a get all the peanut butter off the floor, man. It got all stuck in my chest hair and shit. You ain’t gonna get every drop.”

“Okay,” Shane said, but he didn’t stop licking until Tex physically removed his face from his strapping muscles.

Tex stood up and shook. He smiled wanly at his friends. “Damn… I gotta get a shower, man, all y’all best get out the way. I’m gettin’ a showerhead to myself too, you best believe that.”

“Man… I think we should get blowjobs from Mariah early, man. Barely costs a thing. We’ll be ready to go later on when we get laid-“

“You ain’t nevuh gonna seduce no girl, man.”

“Fuck you, I get plenty of girls. Remember that chunky female wit’ the lips-?”

As though they had forgotten what just happened moments ago, they all ignored Shane. They went straight to their shower. Shane stood there and watched. He stretched his sore legs as he signed the checks written out to each of them — that took a long time even though he had filled out the checks beforehand. He just needed to sign them.

But Shane dragged it out to take as long as possible so he could watch them crowd into the showers. Tex quietly showered by himself, but the others were at two or three to a showerhead — these were not ordinary showerheads, they sprayed in a wide arc, so it was just barely enough space for several men. Shane lazily jacked his limp dick as he watched them bump into each other, show off their muscles and argue about who was going to fuck which prostitute in what order this weekend.

Eventually he was ready to go. Shane loved hairy-backed men, and Tex had been a perfect specimen. But there were more. There were thousands of studly hairbacks in this world, and Shane couldn’t wait to track down every single one of them.

Rough Trade: The Plumber, Plenty of Poundage and One Pulsating Pole

Here’s the entirety of Rough Trade: The Plumber, Plenty of Poundage and One Pulsating Pole, a hardcore tale of blue-collar action! It’s available for a great low price with five more stories — plus bonus material — in Gay Blue-Collar Erotica, Vol. 1!

Rob had never seen a sexy plumber — they were always fat and gross in his experience — so when Dino showed up, his knees went weak. Rob stood there at the front door, quaking like a child.

That’s because Dino was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with swarthy skin betraying his Greek origin, though his accent was almost undetectable. He had a dense mop of curly black hair that extended in an unruly mess all the way to his shoulders. He wore a tight wifebeater, and a thick layer of curly black hair extruded from beneath it.

He had a surly look about him. A lot of people would have seen him as rude — quite accurately — but Rob didn’t care. He was so hot Rob was too nervous to stand there and watch as he fixed the sink.

It was a simple job, and it only took a few hours. Rob went away to surf the web, forcing himself not to watch porn even though he kept getting hard thinking about Dino there under the sink.

“What?” Dino’s angry voice spat out. It was deep and resonant.

Rob was flush with fear. Had he angered Dino? He wasn’t even in the same room. He cautiously crept into the kitchen.

“I told you about that.” Dino said. His fingers gripped the cell phone tight as he held it to his ear. His nostrils flared. His shoulder muscles rippled beneath the wifebeater that was now sweaty and marked with grease. “I told you- Baby, look, I said I’d pay for it, right? So- so just fuckin’ wait for it! Don’t tell me not to curse at you, you’ve been cursing at me since the moment I answered the phone! Well fuck you, I told you about that and you dumped me so it’s none of your business you fat stupid cow!”

He hung up the phone and nearly slammed it on the counter, but stopped himself at the last minute. He roared and shadowboxed the air, his face ruddy and his hands tightened into fists.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “That was my bitch ex-wife. She’s such a fucking whore. You know she’s makin’ me pay for my daughter’s makeup? I don’t even think she should be wearing makeup yet, she’s only thirteen. I said no. I threw it all away into the garbage. But I don’t get a say, I just have to pay for it.” His face was red and he paced in Rob’s tiny kitchen. He stopped and looked at Rob. “Sorry. She’s just… She’s being a bitch. Wants me to cough up two hundred bucks out of the blue. Like I’m fuckin’ made of money.”

“I know how you can make two hundred bucks,” Rob said with a flirtatious grin, which he hoped looked nonchalant. “And if you do it the way I tell you, I’ll give you five hundred.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Rob said. He blushed and grabbed for the loose waistband of Dino’s jeans. He tickled the rim of his boxers, and Dino’s eyes opened wide. His muscles all tensed. “It’s long, I’m pretty sure, and thick, and it’s probably a light brown, and I’ll make it feel very good-“

“You, uh…” Dino paused, unsure if he should take a guess at what Rob was trying to say. If Dino guessed wrong and Rob complained, he would get in a lot of trouble. But Dino couldn’t think of anything Rob might be referring to other than sex. “So you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes. Exactly. I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me raw, and I want you to fuck me hard. I’ll make you forget that bitch ex-wife,” Rob said. “I just want you to help me embarrass my own embarrassing former family. My dad. He’s disowned me, I like to call him sometimes and let some guy he’d hate make it clear he’s made me his bitch.”

Dino blushed and laughed nervously. He covered his mouth with his face. He grabbed his crotch with his other hand. “Let’s, uh, be clear,” he said. His eyes flashed menacingly. “I ain’t gonna touch your dick. You don’t get up in my ass or nothing. I will rip yo’ face off if you even think about it.”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’ll suck your dick. You fuck me in the ass. You make a lotta noise when I call my dad,” Rob said. “That’s all. I’m a bottom, I’ve got no interest in fucking you.”

Dino paused. He caressed his own chest, his muscles rippling as he looked away from Rob — he found eye contact very intense and uncomfortable right now. He sighed like he was going to say yes, but then he stopped and reconsidered. He opened his mouth. He laughed again. “Aw, fuck, it’s for my daughter…”

“A noble cause,” Rob said. He gently touched Dino’s meaty but flat belly, through his wifebeater. Then he pushed one of his fingers beneath the fabric, tracing a trail through the sweaty hair there.

“You, uh, want me to take a shower first?” He asked. He raised one arm and sniffed at the pit. “I stink-“

“No!” Rob blushed and rammed his head into Dino’s hairy armpit. He suckled on the coarse, sweat-slickened hairs there, which made Dino chuckle. Normally Dino was ticklish there, but he was too shocked to react that way. He was used to people treating his sweaty, hairy body as gross — as impressive, given his muscles, but still foul-smelling and unpleasant no matter how much he washed. Dino was used to it by now, so he found it weird and off-putting to have someone actually worshiping every inch of his raunchy flesh.

“Damn, you are one nasty dude,” Dino said.

Rob sucked on the flesh of Dino’s chest. He licked over Dino’s hairy pecs, lapping at the kinky hairs and sucking up all the sweat. Dino’s muscles rippled as he tensed up. He had never had a girl who was really, genuinely into his muscles and hairy body — they occasionally thought he was hot, but they would have preferred he was smaller and smoother.

But Dino couldn’t do anything about that. He had been beat up too much as a kid to be willing to slim down, and anyway he was just a big boy by nature. He put on muscle-weight easily, so he worked out a lot. At first he had only worked out because he wanted to look good for when he picked up chicks. He had simply overshot his goal, and he refused to change his trajectory, so he just kept getting bigger and bigger, and less and less appealing to women.

As Rob sunk to the ground, Dino groaned. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. Am I a prostitute? No, he thought, this doesn’t count. It would count if I sought out a gay man to fuck for money. This is just… making a little cash on the side. From sex. Can I call myself a gigolo? Could I pretend this guy was a girl and tell everyone I had a female pay me for money?

He felt self-conscious and vulnerable when Rob undid his belt and dropped them. His cock and balls dangled. His dick had never been so limp, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get hard. Finally he had the bright idea to bring up some porn on his cell phone.

Rob saw Dino take out his phone and mumble to himself as he looked up some more porn. Rob didn’t mind. He inhaled deeply of Dino’s musk, then swallowed his dick to the root. It was limp and soft, but as soon as it touched Rob’s tongue, it twitched.

It pulsated in Rob’s mouth. He could tell when Dino found a video he was really into because his dick jumped and hardened. It went from soft to hard in seconds, and Dino groaned overhead.

As the sour taste of precum overwhelmed Rob, he gurgled merrily. Dino tasted salty and sweet, and a little like seawater — his precum tasted like Rob imagined seawater did on a remote Greek island; it tasted sunny and warm and savory, and it made Rob’s mouth water. He licked and lapped at that throbbing cock, while giggling at how it made Dino twist and writhe as though it hurt.

Really though Dino just contorted because it felt so good. His knees were weak. His body was overcome by pleasure wafting over him in waves. He wanted to grab ahold of Rob’s head and facefuck him like a slut. Dino rarely got the chance to orally copulate with someone like that — mostly girls thought his body hair was gross enough that any kind of contact was a favor. His ex-wife had made him lick her pussy without ever sucking his dick, and then when he complained, she called him a misogynist.

He was watching porn, so when a call came, it bounced him off the website and those beautiful blonde lesbians disappeared. He was angered, especially when he saw that it was his ex-wife again.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” he murmured to himself. He answered the phone. “What?”

You are such an asshole, Dino! You never told me about that slutty bitch at the club. It’s just like Tampa all over again-

“It is not, you stupid cunt!” Dino screamed. “I did tell you about her, and I ain’t fuck her, and we ain’t together so it wouldn’t be any of yo’ business if I did! I don’t gotta tell you ‘bout this shit!”

If you ever want to see your daughter, I have to be convinced you have a healthy living environment, Dino. You can’t be getting drunk with sluts.

“I don’t do that when I have Lisa! You are one miserable bitch of a cock-sucking whore! How’s that accountant’s dick taste, huh?”

Dino! I can’t deal with you when you’re like this. I oughta send my brother over there-

“Go ahead, I’ll kick his ass again,” Dino said. “I’m kinda busy right now, I got a girl over.”

You’re not at work?

“She was one of my clients. She came over to suck my dick,” Dino said.

Yeah, right. You’re a pussy, Dino. And you’re a hairy fuck.

Dino whispered, “make some sounds like a girl.” Then he put the phone next to Rob’s mouth. Rob blushed but did as he was told. As he sucked, he made loud gurgling sounds, taking care to ensure his voice was as feminine as could be.

Ew, god, Dino, did you just put the phone near your cock? That sounded disgusting. You’re disgusting. She sounds like a total slut. And she sounds fat.

“You’re disgusting, you stupid bitch,” Dino said. “I gotta go. I got my dick in a girl who’s worth a damn.” He hung up, glad he had gotten the final word for once. That rarely happened.

His dick throbbed in Rob’s mouth. Now that Dino had gotten more comfortable with it, he went ahead and facefucked him. He wrapped his meaty palms around the back of Rob’s head. Rob paused to situate himself at the perfect angle to deep-throat Dino, who began grinding his dick into Rob’s gullet.

Dino groaned and threw his head back as he felt the earliest tingling of his orgasm. He went slow, not wanting to blow his load so soon. He ground his dick into Rob’s throat, which spasmed and struggled to accept every inch of his load.

Dino had been raised Greek Orthodox, so he was overcome with guilt as he fucked — not enough to stop, but enough that he promised himself he’d see his priest as soon as he could. He really ought to start going to church, not just for this, but also because his ex could try to get him in legal trouble, and a history of going to church would look good in court.

But mainly, he wanted assurance that he wasn’t in trouble with God for doing this. Now that he had gotten started, it really didn’t feel like prostitution. It didn’t seem like it should be sinful. He was just sticking his dick down a welcome, warm, wet hole — what could be sinful about that?

Besides, he had been fucking females outside of wedlock. That wasn’t any worse, was it? Not technically speaking, he thought. But there was still a twinge of guilt in his chest. Nothing that felt this good could possibly be allowed by the Bible, he decided.

When Rob gave him his phone, Dino was nervous. He didn’t know what to say to Rob’s father, and he was so overwhelmed by the pleasure snaking through his body that he didn’t know if he could come up with anything to say. But Rob was insistent.

“Yo. Hey, Mr. Winthrop?”

Yes. Who, may I ask, is calling?

“Yo, uh, this is Dino. I just wanted to say thanks, for makin’ your son. He got a nice tight throat and my dick fits perfectly down it.”

A loud sigh came from the phone. Am I on speaker-phone? Robert, this is truly immature behavior.

“His mouth is full, sir, full of my dick. He looks good wit’ dick in his throat,” Dino said. “You wanna listen as I stick ‘im? I’m gonna fuck him in the ass now.”

He grabbed Rob by the hips, and pulled him off. His dick was cold and alone, begging for attention — Rob tried to stroke it a little as he got in position, but Dino kept moving, making it impossible to jack him off as they arranged themselves for hardcore fucking.

Rob dropped his pants and bent over on all fours. He put the phone on the ground in front of his face, so his father could hear everything that happened.

“Hey, Dad! I’m just using my inheritance,” Rob said. “I paid Dino five hundred dollars to fuck me.”

Robert… You shame me.

“I know, but you deserve it,” Rob said. He threw his head back and moaned as Dino slipped into him. There was an intense, uncontrollable pressure. He moaned again, as loud as he could, a powerful, cringing sound that resonated in the kitchen. Rob’s father groaned in disgust.

You don’t need to call me for this.

“I absolutely do!” Rob said. His voice broke as a twinge of pleasure erupted in his prostate. He pushed his ass back, squeezing every inch of Dino’s dick into him.

Now that he had started fucking, Dino was less nervous. He was surprised by how easy this really was — Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s ass. It helped that Rob was such a feminine man, with a bubble-butt that was smooth, clean and unblemished, not to mention tight. It was easily the best ass he had ever fucked, though when Dino told his friends about this later, he said that Rob’s ass was “sloppy and weak”.

“Yo’ son is a slut, Mr. Winthrop!” Dino called out. He cackled. “That’s my dick in his ass!”

Really, son, you are disgusting. I’m hanging up now. And then he did so.

Rob was disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised. Dad always hung up once the noise started getting really passionate; Rob liked to imagine that he sobbed once he hung up the phone, but he didn’t know if that was true or not. Rob reached behind himself to spread his asscheeks, giving Dino more access to his asshole.

With a loud roar, Dino slapped Rob’s asscheek. He held onto it tightly as he humped. When he had gotten started, Dino didn’t want to touch any more of Rob than he absolutely had to. He was worried he’d feel some body hair and remember he was fucking a man. He’d be humiliated if his dick went soft mid-fuck.

But now that he was into it, he wasn’t worried about that all. Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s, and he was so smooth he put most girls to shame. Dino gripped his ass and slammed his dick all the way in.

“Take it, slut, god-damn!”

Once he was more comfortable with it, he knew what position he wanted — no girl ever let him do it for more than a few seconds because they said he was too heavy and hairy. But Dino had long wanted to do it laying on his partner’s back.

So that was what he did. He rammed his dick until it was all the way in, and he wrapped one forearm in front of Rob’s mouth. He sighed and moaned directly into the back of Rob’s head. His sweaty, hairy chest plopped down on Rob’s back.

Rob was entirely pinned. He couldn’t even squirm with Dino’s heavy body pressing down on his back. He couldn’t breathe either, both because of the mass of Greek muscle atop his back and because he was too overcome by passion to take a breath.

“Hell, yeah, slut…”

Dino rotated his hips, moving his dick in a wide circle within Rob’s ass. He hit every corner of Rob’s insides, his cock aiming into every part of Rob’s guts. He could even tell — as disgusting as it was — when his dick touched Rob’s prostate because it made Rob writhe beneath his body. He couldn’t move much, but Dino could feel his body struggle to squirm.

Finally Dino felt his orgasm coming on strong. Rob had stopped breathing, the pressure in his ass so intense he couldn’t even gasp. Dino snorted like a hog, the sound of his rutting filling the air and echoing in Rob’s ears.

“Here I go, baby, gonna fill you up, I love you so much, sweetheart-“ Dino stopped and blushed because he remembered he wasn’t talking to a female. Luckily Rob either didn’t hear his words or didn’t take them seriously.

A wad of hot cum sprayed into Rob’s ass. Dino groaned loudly, his deep voice resonant and rough like sandpaper. His cum was hot and creamy, and it seeped into Rob’s flesh. Rob moaned as he shot his own load onto the floor and into his hand. Dino wrinkled his nose in disgust — he hadn’t known Rob was pleasuring himself — but he didn’t stop Rob even if it seemed disrespectful; Dino had been raised to believe a real man commanded respect, especially through his fucking, and he didn’t let his bitch distract him.

But this was too potent an orgasm to do anything while it still coursed through his veins. Dino’s hands curled into claws, then tightened into fists. He smacked Rob, not outright punching him of course, but hitting him in an affectionate way — or at least he saw it as affectionate; Rob saw it as bullying, but he was so aroused by it so he didn’t complain — harder than he would have ever hit a girl. It was nice, Dino thought, to fuck a man because he knew Rob would never complain that he was too rough. Girls act like they’re made of glass and could shatter if you handle them harshly, Dino thought as he drained his balls into Rob’s asshole.

He burped and laughed. Any girl would have kicked him out of bed for burping in their face, but Rob inhaled deeply of it and moaned. Dino screwed his nose up in disgust. His cock slowly limpened, but he remained in position, deep in Rob’s ass, his heavy body pressing down on Rob’s back.

“You ain’t gonna stiff me, is you?” Dino asked. It hadn’t occurred to him before now that Rob could just refuse to pay him, and Dino would have no recourse.

“No. I won’t. I’ve got cash in my wallet,” Rob said, his voice strained and clipped.

Dino nodded and moved to get up. When he did, his dick swam through the sea of cum that gurgled within Rob’s ass. He could feel the sticky fluid clinging to his soft cockflesh.

“Wait,” Rob said. “Can you stay there for a moment? I like feeling you inside me.”

“Fine,” Dino said with a grunt. It now felt pretty gross — this was more what he had imagined it would feel like before he started. He was intimately aware with every passing moment that he was inside a man’s ass; there was no way to pretend he was with a woman, not now. He reached out and grabbed Rob’s pants. “In here?”

“Yeah.” Rob’s voice was weak and wavery.

Dino pulled out the wallet. He briefly considered stealing Rob’s credit cards, but he figured someone as wealthy as Rob probably had excellent security on the cards, and Dino didn’t want to get in any legal trouble or he might lose the right to see his daughter at all.

He pulled out the cash — there was six hundred dollars in there. He took it all, though he had only been promised five hundred dollars. Was this stealing? He didn’t want to be a thief.

“I’m taking six hundred dollars. The extra hundred bucks is for the performance I put on for your daddy,” Dino said. “And you still gotta pay for the sink too.”